Clipse - Grindin (Remix) [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Hook: Clipse]
What's the size of them rims on that car nigga?!
Can they see that chain from afar nigga?!
(Grindin!) whatcha game be like?
(Grindin!) whatcha chain be like?
(Grindin!) so whatcha name be like?
Ma, it don't get more ghetto than this

[Verse 1: Noreaga]
See I'm grimey-minded, you've been blinded
Lookin for a beat like mine you can't find it
You hear the Clipse and N.O.R.E. gotta rewind it (*BEEP BEEP*)
Nowadays you get on that run and get finded
You know I got guns, why you actin like my daughters?
You know I got sons
Nah, we won't speak fam, aiming atchya collar bone
Hitchya in ya cheek fam

[Verse 2: Pusha T]
From ghetto to ghetto to backyard to yard
I sell it whip on whip, it's off the hard
Stand on that table, nigga, spit that Cris, nigga
Throw that chair, make em recognize this: raw
Playa looka here, I'm great in the kitchen like Corning cookware
Uncle Jemima, with my braids wrapped
And 3-minute recipes for cookin flapjacks
Coke priced through the roof, SL flew the coop
My niece askin how my rims bigger than a hoola-hoop
Cuzzo, I make the block holla, take it back to childhood
How the scale teeter-totter, as I evolve
Weight grew heavy, it was kinda like my buddy just fell off the see-saw
Bricks in the muffler, Mack-11 touch ya
Virgina's hustler, I'm here motherfucker

[Hook: Clipse & Birdman]
What's the size of them rims on that car nigga?!
Can they see that chain from a far nigga?!
(Grindin!) whatcha game be like? (MONEY!)
(Grindin!) whatcha chain be like? (MONEY!!)
(Grindin!) so whatcha name be like? (STUNNA)
Ma, it don't get more ghetto than this

[Verse 3: Birdman]
Big Tymin in a bubble-eye Lex, so fly (so fly! so fly!)
I cook/cut crack, that's the sizing
Them big, big rims on tires, and, we shinin
Me and Weezy (holla holla) gold rims can't see me (holla holla)
New Benz on tweezies (holla holla)
Cadillac truck beamin, fo sheezy

[Verse 4: Lil Wayne]
From hood to hood, bitch nigga, yard to yard
Hey I'm your "herr-o" cause I've got that heroin and that raw
Check the rims on my car
Naw, don't check em, though, cause they stuffed with blow
Weezy Baby, still in the kitchen
Just put a little curve on the shit I'm pitchin
You need a hit, I'm Mark McGwire, come holla
I watch the base at home, I'm umpire

[Verse 5: Clipse]
Grin-ding, you know what I keep in the lining
Niggas better stay in line when
They see a nigga like me shinin
Grin-ding, you know what I keep in the lining
Niggas better stay in line when
When you see a nigga like me shinin (Grinding!)

[Verse 6: Malice]
Took 13 South, cross the Bay Bridge with it
Ring the triangle, dinner bell, come and get it!
The time in the kitchen, I dare not mention
When my cell phone echo, I swear they listening
'89 was my beginning, y'all
Young snot-nosed, pack yams in a tennis ball
Cops swore we was playing catch, no!
We was adding stretch, no choice, beg till you outta breath
I ducked the Feds, they seen my weight grow
Streets love Malice for his comeback ratio
If they got popped, we made sure they made bail
Cause if not, we be scared they gon tell
Pattycake, that's me, bake the pies
Pyrex, mixed that, scrape the sides
Grindin, Glock-9 in the lining
May God strike a nigga dead if he lying