Lil Wayne - Brown Paper Bag [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

All brown paper bag (Uh-Oh)
All brown paper bag (Uh-Oh)
All brown all brown - Fi-Fi-Fill (Haha) it up wit' more

[Hook: Lil Wayne]
All brown paper bag -Fill it up wit' ones (Like Father, Like Son biatch!)
All brown paper bag - Fill it up wit' ones (Angel on the beat)
Fill it - Fill it up wit' ones (I tell 'em I tell 'em)

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
I got that paper bag full of paper, bag full of kush
Big choppa I can hit you from a hundred foots
Wha's happenin' Wardy? How you want it, buddy?
Them bitches checkin' for me, tell 'em I'm with Swizz Swizzy
They call me Wizzy Fizzy, holla back, right now I'm busy
I am the president, you just play your position
And I hope that door don't hit ya, get up outta my office crawfish
Don't let them sharkys get ya, this beat's a car collision
Check out my car collection, yea look at my rims, ho
Mercedes wit' them kidneys, naw that's a Benzo
I don't pop them pills no, but I pop them rubber bands
Man I can get like fifty thousand in that brown bag

[Hook x3]

[Verse 2: Birdman]
Yea, nigga
Cook a whole, make it out a whole and a half bitch!
Yea, Birdman in a Benz wit' the duffel stuffed
Got a chopper wit' a drum and one iced up
Them people hot around my way but we don't give a fuck
We on the grind for the shine tryin' to come up
A black MAC, black 6, and a black Hummer
Them thirteen hundreds, fourteen hundreds, we be gettin' money
Drop it off, get to work nigga keep it runnin'
Garbage bag full of cash nigga keep it comin'
In my hood Red Phantom nigga we be stuntin'
Got the block blocked off nigga we be hustlin'
Brown duffel bag filled up with cash
16 years old with a brand new, Jag bitch!

[Hook x2]

[Verse 3: Swizz Beatz]
Get it up, in the air
Get it up, in the air
Now money cars clothes hoes, all a nigga know so
I'm from the ghetto so, give me my pesos
All brown paper bag, I could fill it up with ones
Nigga fill it up with ones, hey, fill it up with ones
I think that she's a stripper, dancer, dancer, dancer
Dancer, hey hey stuff it in the thang dog
Damn right I be poppin' my collar
In a all black Impala makin' fiends wanna holla
Got the suade on my headrest, gold on my damn bracelet
Hey, triple gold nigga, sucka, I ain't ridin' thin
You want me come and get me
I'm in 360 (Ferrari, man) Cash Money's with me