Lloyd Banks - Big Bully [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Lloyd Banks]
Weed all morning! And then it dawned on ‘em;
The niggas that call him “the best”, I moonwalk on ‘em
Don't add gasoline, I’ll put the torch on ‘em!
They gon’ keep wavin’ the bull until these horns on ‘em!
You fall on morning – before it start stormin’
Ain’t really no competition – I rip apart all ‘em!
Go call ‘em! – I serve niggas till they get borin’
Midnight, midday, mornin’!
Uh, this song is for errbody I make it look simple G’s
I wipe the floor with MC’s, stack triple cheese!
Me, Fif and Yay’ jus’ copped – now that’s triple beams! (YEAH!)
My PLK ring hold weight, I cripple knees! (knees)
Traitors get betrayed, tramps get to lick on these
I light the room bright as lamps, nigga pick a sleeve!
You know you can’t get with the camp, lucky you get to breathe
Please don’t ask me how I’m livin’ when I lift my keys! (yeah!)
Brand new spankin’ Franklyn’s
I land where it’s ancient, they race to thank him. (uh-huh!)
A million miles away out in space jus’ waitin’ (word!)
Cookin’ up the Crack, Gucci apron bakin’! (you nerves!)
Listen! – Cause I ain’t got the time to blog
Words with the strugglin’ black man, bars hard as Obama job! (uh!)
F-uck my enemies! (yeah!) – I tell they momma slob
Drop my bag, tie niggas up like Amistad
Shit-talkin’ cause I'm armored car'd
Leap and the drama frog, sleep from the karma start! (whooo!)
Suppose I lose it! – These old niggas entrees!
You thinkin’? – Cause I been drinkin’ like Kanye! (Kanye!)
Ain’t nuttin’ changed but the change in the cool of life
Hop out, shoot the dice, pause for the blue and whites! (uh!)
And my new Lou’s they lucky if I do ‘em twice
About to catch my flight to Nice! – Cause I’m nice!
Dime after dime I’m the man, yeah!
Her ass spillin’ over the damn chair! (uh!) – Her titties stand up like Pam Grier! (uh-huh!)
I give ‘um wide walls and damp hair
Slow fellatio in the lamb’, yeah, let’s camp here! (HAA!)
See nine times out of ten, I’m kinda rocky
I’m dressed up so I pose for the paparazzi!
Furs by the row! – Extreme shopper hobby
Twenty, thirty racks on that – cream Maserati! (whoo, whoo!)
How you gon’ turn your back on your back bone?
Must wanna be in the front, than be in that zone! (that zone!)
Leanin’ on Pat-rone! – There’s no chillin’ me!
My lifestyle’s fast dome! – Roam through Italy! (ugh!)
I got your shorty and her bed game serious (serious!)
The pussy only really yours on her period
Period! – wrong move, check mate boy
Mansion, man don’t tell me there’s a sextape, Lloyd (uh, uh!)
BANKS! – Nigga name a nigga you know nicer! (huhh?)
I’m sh-ttin’! – I'm gon’ need a sumo diaper! (yeah!)
I move like the Spyker, two door Viper (yeah!)
Negative energy’ll get the crew all hyper! (uh!)
“Mary Jane” life her! – The only chick that gets it from me
I’m on top of my missionary with the money! (uh-huh!)
I’m hearin’ all the comparin’ and the shit is funny (pfff!)
We’re not the same I’m different, dummy! (UH!)
Your boy back rappin’ his ass off, a brick to glass jaws;
My flow “Predator” with the mask off!

Black leather tint on the fast horse, the last Porsche
Ball like mad sports, passports, I’m back forth!
One man attack force
The 9th wonder, eight other planets past ross
You wore a badge boss
Headed on a crash course! – My hearts ice!
Future brighter than my last thoughts! – You’re all mice!
On air wouldn’t fall off the floordrop
I melt mic's, I'm shit out the mall hot! And everything that you're not!
Warlock! – Back block Sureshock
Keep your mouth shut, and your door locked!
Cause speakers go home in a long box;
It’s all lies he’s gonna call the cops!
You ain’t a MC, you a fat bitch; I get you Swiss cheese for Mac clips!
Nose dives, takin’ one-knees and backflips! – All over rap shit!
End a whole crew at the same time
I'm calm, alley-oop when it’s game time! – And I ain’t even in my prime!
My waistlines’ a grey Nine; that’ll make your ass
Run like a great dane! – Chasin’ dollar bills
Don’t chase fame! These niggas really bummy and fake chains
If there wasn’t so many I’d name names, but “brigade aim”!
Hungry like a nigga with no fridge
Strange, I ain’t grow up like most kids
Pains, bulletholes and broke ribs
Stains over clothes and close deaths
Denials, heavens clouds and no stress!
The game’s full of fouls and no refs
Complaints from the crowds and no love
We bring the guns out when they go club!
Bottles and Bud! – Thick models and drugs
Six Hollow, the Subs, you dipped out with a thug!
Dicked down on the rug, I skipped town with her love
Blind who? – Take these big diamonds and blood!
[End]