Opaque - Mudstained Troubadour [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1: Opaque]
I walk in mud to my knees, cloudy and dark
Spark the start, and bark in the art of my heart
I fart, funky tunes, my protein joy
I enjoy the saddle I brought to ride on toys
The convoy of emphasize, heavy vowels
The valueable money, provoke, oh yes I will
The auras you now devourer, make sense of the street
In the lottery of livin' feel the ground under my feet
Make a lot of ends meet, made cheap, but sill sincere
Make thrills in here, you take pills in fear
Of a cruel world, you can't handle the pressure
I'm a dragon, you shall taste me with pleasure
A sharp dresser, sweep the scenery with my eyes
Mother cries, I went home, wore a disguise
Head out the door for the price, my strong endurance
Proven by the not so bright, intoxicated paracites
Who demands, but is broke
Like the person in the club asking everybody for smoke
Soaked in betrayel, the mud stick to my fur
Sure you are an ingredient in the hot vat
I stir, "who goes there?" "the mudstained troubadour, sir."
Mr. fine and obscure, occur and a blur
Conquer with my signature sound
Eternal word, oh, who be acting our style

[Hook]
Mudstains on his soul, but moving forward
Playing the role of the talented undiscovered
Cover blank sheet with mud and broken laws
Flappin' the jaws, (the mudstained troubadour)

[Verse 2]
Carries a mic instead of a guitar, exhale the a-bomb
I'm not a store, but pay me, I live of rap and instead of having a job
Ought you have to rob anybody
The shotty, I'm home and choose hords of words through everybody
All these bitter lemens, hate printed on their face
Envy venom bite marks, it's a disgrace
Knock your ass in the place with the bass that I'm slammin'
I doubt you ever hear this in the club, and if you do, you be jammin'
Bangin' your heads, worshipping the script from Oslo
Words tripping off my lips, in a dissociative flow
Get dough, from shows, cats so awesome and diss 'em
Bitches don't dare approach, because I'm too fucking hizzom

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Inhaling the exhaust, cross the street
I hear beats in my head the source of my poems
Cause mayhem with caos hymns of the people
It's too crazy for me and I am to crazy to them
Suckers try to be hip, I'm mean to the bone
Known to my own, the mudstained on your headphones
Hip-hop junkie methadone, stoned in your town soon
On walls I write the runes you feel in my tunes
If you're ready to inhale, steady on wail. I lay the lies swiftly
Can't owe you with the fact that you're wack and I'm nice and nifty
The emcee of the specie, born king
Bring anger and joy when I rap and sing
(the mudstained troubadour) over tightly productions
Beats given concussion, but with bass and things be rushening
Try to keep your shit out of the way or we'll smash it
(you know you can't mess with TP, you punk bastard)

[Hook x2]