F.T. - Metal Thangz 2 [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse One: Nature]
Now whats a shot with no ring in it?
Glock with no spring in it?
With no kickback nigga
No sense bringing it
Men In Black type shit
Bigger then you think it is
Two niggas to hold it
Trigger
Ten finger shit
The scene's more similar to Private Ryan then the hood
And any time in the day, it's in the hood
If it ain't on stock we try to order it
We pay off top
A nigga straight from the block, come to your door with it
Like, knock knock
"Who's that?"
"New gun, yo move back"
We kill, guns don't, think hard, true fact
I hit a nigga up
It's like connecting the dots
Starting off at the leg and ending next to the watch
I try to start at the top and finish off at the feet
Until he bleeding
He running but he coughin and weak
And he can talk a little bit, but when he fallin asleep
It's another nigga off the streets
Cause of metal thangs

[Hook: FT] {x2}
Yo when you hear this shit I bet your head'll swing (why?)
Cause it's a ghetto thing
When we pack metal thangs, just to settle thangs

[Verse Two: FT]
Fuc That, designing a plan
With a nine in my hand
Cause when I test niggas, I give 'em the final exam
Fuc That I go to court and get high on the stand
And have the bitch ass judge like "I understand"
You live the life of a clown, that's married to jokes
I'm a nigga that do drugs and puff various smoke
Pull a burner out on Herbs and hilarious folks
Y'all niggas should call me 'Butter' how i carry the toast
I'ma show you somethin' you gon' regret you seen
Mess with me
I'll let bullets caress your spleen
Wet your team
Even though I'm a sex machine
F still got aim like a ex marine
I cook with the chrome
Go to bed with the mac
Deadin' you cats
Leave lead in your head and ya back
Niggas better walk around and start spreadin the facts
I got guns that'll reach you, wherever you at
Incredible gats, you don't wanna owe me trap
Especially if I'm with Nature or Joey Crack
You can still get shot even though we rap
You we strapped
The mo' heat, the mo' we pack

[Hook]

[Verse Three: Fat Joe]
I been in this game for years
It ain't done shit for me
But switch stories of niggas tryin to get rich off me
They wanna snitch on me
Lock me away
It's shocking to say
It be my own tryna box me in cage
Copy the ways
Study the style
It's funny as hell
These the same niggas that's supposed to be wild
Whenever in doubt
Look to the cloud
Pun is there
TS'll harbor the pain
But don't nobody care
We the realest clique to come in this rap shit
But then again how did you discover that
When you given the facts backwards?
What other rapper you know
Sport a mill in the grill
Step on the block
And niggas still run for the hills
I spit lyrics that's real in all factual
Shorty don't act a fool
Cause surely the law'll come after you dudes
Wanna talk gun play I mastered that
No remorse for blastin' cats
I'm from the Bronx where we have to clap

[Hook]