Masta Ace - Ei8ht Is Enuff [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Produced by Frank Dukes]

[Intro: Masta Ace]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.....one two, we ain't gotta spit sixteens on this

[Verse One: Masta Ace]
Aiyyo this the best thing that ever happened to rap
Since Big Pun was packin' a mac in the back of the Ac'
It's like gettin pulled over by police
With a loaded mag and duffle bag of crack in the back
Y'all in hot water, y'all crab motherfuckers it got too hot
In the pot ya got slaughtered
Your manager got sorted you got shorted
We turned around and put it out the blocks bought it

[Verse Two: Edo G]
Yo, I got rhymes and gats that I'm concealin
If rap is the floor, hip-hop is the ceiling
Led from jump, never was we trailin
Before you fight me, you better fight the feelin, nigga
Face it god, the base is broad
Edo is grimey, Ace is hard (PAUSE)
You can catch two Ls' like your name's James Todd
A & E, off, en garde, the hit squad

[Verse Three: Masta Ace]
Yo y'all dudes is similiar to cinema
Trained actors like Brad and Jennifer
But yo I got a flow like Angelina
And I'm a king like Billie Jean, promoter Don and Regina
We've been doin this as long as y'all been alive
So little boys keep your mouth shut when the men arrive
I look mean as a motherfucker when I drive
The chromed out black four fifty like ten to five

[Verse Four: Edo G]
You'll get bodied hard, so you better have a bodyguard
I get that green like Swiss chard
When the flames pop, you'll never gain props
When the game stops, and the chain pops
We gettin off at the same stop?
I can understand an ocean by lookin at a raindrop
We EVERYWHERE, you in a same spot
I'mma make it so you rappers never EVER namedrop

[Verse Five: Masta Ace]
Yeah your girl's on my wood like a hungry beaver
If she tellin you she home with a fever nigga don't believe her
She on top of me I'm underneath her
Cause your swag is illegal procedure like one receiver
Women hate a grown man with feminine traits
And your body gel, kinda smell like cinnamon grapes
Your shampoo's like Fruit Passion
You the ass in the Louis store, tryin to find some cute fashion

[Verse Six: Edo G]
Yo, you a no-show, and you won't blow
The people who know aren't talkin
The people who are talkin, don't know
You a hobo, you'll get ate/eight like ocho
By my vocals, I'm number one
Twist your wig like a cumberbund
This whole industry is troublesome
We pop rappers like bubble gum
Don't confuse A&E with the other ones

[Verse Seven: Masta Ace]
Yeah! When It's time to get wild on stage
I can spit eights like Lynn Swann, Alan Paige
Or maybe Randy Moss in his college days
When he was goin through that childish phase
But listen, what you witnessin is violent rage
Kind of like a lion that got out his cage
It's the underground sound that pays
Me and Crazy Eddie go together like Brown and Beige

[Verse Eight: Edo G]
The game a soap opera, "The Days of Our Lives"
Rappers talk shit, then they apoligize ("I'm sorry!")
No substance, hollow guys
That's why I do my 1-2 and don't follow lies
I'm wax, you Serato guys
You bullshit, and Edo is bonafied
My dogs sick 'em, get 'em, now they play victim
Ain't about them toys, it's about who playin wit 'em