Jon Murdock - The Young White Lady [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1: Ricky Fitz]
Call me candy man, cats is candy yams, fold like [?]
Pretzels under pressure, I’ll test ya, hope you ready fam
Pack and stare, rhyming with these suicide bombers
Blasting big guns like Contra, brown bomber
Eat nigga’s filet mignon-a, Jeffery Dahmer
Blowing ganga, pulling llamas, Osama, the monster
Beast from the East, son who’s off of his leash
With guns drawn busting at my enemies
Pen will bleed sixteen bars, jailor lifting weights in the yard
Kick a freestyle, who’s touching the God
S-C-I, the arsonist who’s ready to die
Heads fly when I swing sword like [?]
The negotiator, your team’s trash like the Raiders
Arsonist like bright days at the beach, the sun it blazed ya
Son I’ll take ya, to the place of no return
You pray for Heaven, even though you starting to burn

[Verse 2: Lex Starwind]
Weapon X-ecutioner, sanitation garbage pollutioners get sent to Lucifer
My stone cold stare Medusa ya
P89 Ruger ya, one up to the P90
You want the beef? Find me, I bet I seem grimy
‘Cause I was raised in the gutta, will blaze with my brother
Try to duck the son’s rage, run for cover
Motherfucker, don’t utter a word you can’t even speak
Used to keep a ox [?], right up in my sheet, nigga
Burn bridges I ain’t had to cross, to get a whip
Like my first album, the 9/11 raspberry Porsche
Cats very soft, call ‘em terrycloth
World War III is what I see and what I’m ready for
Lex Star, the pistol military issue, hit you
Send a squad to get you ripped through gristle, bone and
Tissue, wish you, would, I wish y’all could
Niggas never seen the street I bet you wish y’all hood, nigga

[Verse 3: Jon Murdock]
Throw my beat break in to shake and debate and I’ll slay haters
The violent tone, sit on my throne and stole faces
Latch the blacksmith mask on, iron maiden
Molded by Murdock himself, try and face it
Fdation, neck break in the best placement
Finger grips in your neck, you can’t brace it
With screws in your forehead tightened for stability
Have to move your whole torso to see you ain’t as ill as me
Spit the flamethrower to blow ya, the game’s over
The same soldier with the Range Rover, my game’s ultra
Peace to Philly Toboggan, speak silly to Goggin
No information for him, it’s not a problem
Don’t run from the siren, the situation that I’m in
Will make the paramedics come through and perform the Heimlich

[Outro: Jon Murdock]
Motherfucker, Foundation
Sagittarius, basement basin, blazin’
Yo, 2004, spitting a bar, what