P Money - The Warning (Ghetts Dub - Part 2) [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Place all your bets
This aspirin’s going straight to his head
I’ll aim for the best
When we collide on the road
My monster truck will leave your range in a wreck
If you got money then pay me respect
You parred Lord of the Mics and evaded my set
You’re pissed that you got yourself something that you don’t want
Like you made a mistake in claiming a sket
You can bring all your animals like Noah’s Ark
Two by two I will send them all to the gaza
This is your burial, everybody’s here for it
So I guess that makes the DJ the pastor
I heard back in the day you was a dancer
Ready for the cameras, dummy in drama
Watched a bit of telly, turned into Osama
I thought you was on this gospel blah blah?
(Ghetts) You’re a volcano with no lava
(Ghetts) You’re a new student with no master
(Ghetts) And who wears a light-up gumshield in their video?
You’re a complete disaster
Talking about straps, you ain’t got nada
Pissed off, this is a P Money saga
Top 3 Selected?
Only if people are comparing it to who can mumble faster

This one’s here where your lips are, mista
What happened to church, you skinnybum sick clart?
Used to go on the regular
Now you’re a sinner that dresses up like The Riddler
"Woah, wait, what did you say?"
Now all your fans are like, “Nah, he’s joking!”
“Please, this has gotta be a mix up!”
But it ain’t, ‘cus I got the picture
You ain’t with it, it’s all in your head
I can’t understand, you’re a tool, you’re a mess
And nah we ain’t bredrins
Parred radio uninvited, I still walked in your set!
Your CD’s dead; I heard man play it and was like
“Wagwan for the corpse in your deck?”
How can you expect me to rate you
When certain man in your Movement talk to the Feds?
I ain’t impressed; you should be years better
Stop hyping; maybe we’ll hear better
Everybody’s getting gassed up ‘cus he done a dub
Nobody clocked he done it under peer pressure
You’re going off track; steer better
In a clash there ain’t nobody near better
And from a mouse, you’re a Kano cat that’s jealous
‘Cus I know what it’s like to be near cheddar
And I’m unreadable like a weird letter
See your smart-arsed dub weren’t near clever
Got strike with lightning and you strike with the first tune?
Hmm, I’m still here bredda!
Yeh? Me getting air’s deader
I clocked the plan; you man think you’re clever
Nobody cared about WHO you joker?
Ask Grime who made this year better!

“P’s the only money you par”
That’s funny like calling you Ghetto
Hype on the mic, but when it’s beef you move mellow
I move bricks like any piece of lego
How can you say you represent the ghetto?
You got butted on stage, your front teeth flew out of your face
And you never done jack shit fam
Tell me which part of you’s ghetto?
Now you’re listening, wishing that you never sent back
You realised you’re in a death trap
You ain’t got the heart of a G; yeah, you’re called Ghetto
But I’m the one that’s in the hood more than your neck back
‘Cus I got singalongs, don’t get gassed
I’ll ruin your beats like a dead clap
Your team against mine? I’m the grime scene Cristiano Ronaldo
I will fuck up your left back
If your flow’s dark, then mine’s jet black
Getting others involved! I already read that
You asked Rotten to get dirt but it never worked
Wasteman move, I don’t respect that
I’m the reason you brought your pen back
In this clash, you’re that net gangster that
Stupidly sent P a message, now you’re panicking
Banging on your keyboard, trying to press back
Levelling up, I got another dub that’ll mess you up
And’ll send you to sleep like jet lag
If he’s the bull in this bullring
I’m the guy taking a piss while waving a red flag
I heard comments saying Ghetts is the best
I’m gonna catch a murder case when I dead that
You wanna win against me? (Shut up!)
Take my advice, be direct when you send back

Listen up, Hell’s in the room
Never rated your movement to tell you the truth
From P they found one cool dude
Bun driving offender, the others were the girls in the group [?]
Lost your respect with ‘Sing For Me’
Should’ve holla’d if you needed help with a tune
I make grime bangers
Sell your imaginary Porsche and Bimmer and I’ll sell you a tune
You lying little penis!
Three years ago you were saying, “Next year! Porsches and Beamers!”
Look at the bullshit you’re speaking about, genius
You’re the reason I’m ignoring teachers
From young I’ve been battling creatures
You ain’t fit for war, you’ve been taking breathers
Don’t bet on yourself, I’ll cost you more money in sales than CD leakers
If you don’t wanna be cool
Demma real ghetto boy I don’t care what he’s called
You fell off like your body balance wasn’t equal
To beat me you’ll need beats to be lethal
I can still skip over oner, whatever the weather, whenever you want
You can bring people
I’ll send Devz a halo, hold Scorch to ransom
Wretch is the only one that’s gonna be cool
I’ll end you, there is no sequel
Baby gates can’t match these equals [?]
I’m live for live backwards, pull a slow one, spell it backwards
What does it say? I’m evil!
I’m a beast for this weasel
Doing this to promote your CD’s feeble
“I’m G-H-E double T and O!”
How’s that when every part of you’s legal?
Samuels!
You got it all wrong!
Them new tunes; your beginning’s all done [?]
Promoting new slang on telly, “Skadoosh!”
Air! Nobody caught on!
You’re running out of ideas, where they all gone?
Now your credibilities nearly all gone
Now when you’re on stage and the crowd goes sick…
It’s because I walked on