Gangrene - Gladiator Music [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Featuring: Kool G Rap]
Yea, yea, yea, yea
What? What?
Show you how to kill people bitch
Gangrene, grene, grene
I’m a real gladiator
I grab a hater
Like Al-Qaida
Pray to your savior
Then meet the maker
I rain razor stain
Paint them with brains
Hanging like Wes Craven made it
West favorite playground, I’m fowl
The fowl mouth faded
Cali wow staler spawn
Rip you apart yo
Like 300 Spartans
And two arsons
I move carcasses
Y’all don’t want to start these architects
Michelangelo, archangel
To mark up your set
Get set
Go
From every angle I strangle your neck
Disconnect your lungs from your chest
That’s taking your breath
Picking up some rats where you rest
Then piss on your steps
Disrespectful
But you bitch
This shit’s sick
I’m the first Gangrene from the ditch
There’s gutter water
And there’s nothing quite like this
We push them harder
And I don’t care if it’s for honor
Or get the father on a summer martyr
Partner I slaughter harder than lava
You don’t want a war with us
We growing us
…
There’s more of us
Yea, I’m on my gladiator shit
Yea, I’m on my gladiator shit
Yea, I’m on my gladiator shit
Man, I’m a poor bringer
Bear winger, mud slinger
Rapping muscle spasm
The gun finger
I’m going rings around
Under the wingers and bump singers
Hit them with dump stingers
Cave men, club swingers and blood drinkers
You know
Double G style display
Got your fake, give a fake
Gasoline bath
Art’s an X sprayed on your parade
Scooby Doo y’all
Scooby Doo y’all
Rappers will prove prowl
I’m Cool Aid man
Coming through your fucking wall
I use a bone saw
To cut your ears and your nose off
Arms, legs, fingers and toes off
They drink Promithisine
And smokers cliff over the body
And doze off
Scene of the crime
Yellow tape roped off
Bird do this
My scalpel gets played
Chips on the chop and block
While I’m canoeing through every sewage
Gladiator style
Where my candles animals
A helmet and sandals
Poke holes through you panels
And draw arrows
You don’t want a war with us
We growing us
…
There’s more of us
Yea, I’m on my gladiator shit
Yea, I’m on my gladiator shit
Yea, I’m on my gladiator shit
You know the boy spent a kilo of cocaine
He insane
Forced to listen her
To get the picture and ten frames
I flush the Mont Blanc
Post the coco like Noah
…
Toast blowers
Cause that’s like …
Soldier, the red October
The red hot toasters
Rocking mittens up in the kitchen
They bread pie holders
Solders
Throwing boulders
Blow your head off your …
Hardcore as the polish
I know Cali side sign
Throwers and hit rollers
That row like the rollers
Mommy just won’t admit
Your panties slimy like Oprah
Bap and over-gripping
The arm and the soap a
Deal closer
Muscle and weight
Hustle a trade
King of the Thief City
Kurt Russell escaped
Talking to eight
Stuck in the wait
Like the face of the presidents
In my residence
That stuffed in my safe
Celebrate with a bucket of grapes
You fucking with crazy
It’s simple times for both of us
The discussion is fate
You don’t want a war with us
We growing us
…
There’s more of us
Yea, I’m on my gladiator shit
Yea, I’m on my gladiator shit
Yea, I’m on my gladiator shit
I heard a kerosene explosion
Boom
Frigging life
Mother said
What the hell is that
I seen your …
Hawaiian through my frigging damn wall
And I salute them
The house is on fire
Frigging I knew it
Frigging I heard it
Frigging asking