Pat Battle - The Dope Man [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1]
First off, rap's fuckin' back, remember that
A mad Black reactin' on a track, remember that?
Since hip went safe, I had to hop on the case
And crack the proper combination to see where we ended at
And repossess the fumble, plus harvest any yardage
Maybe gained before this Game of Microphone Thrones started
Retarded - Y'all brawlin' for a crown that don't exist
We supposed to shed light on what the others might of missed
And put a twist on the shit as if written by Charles Dickens
They'll gulp reality if you can pulp it into fiction
Admit it, I spit it the way nobody every did it
Just rippin' it into bits only to pick up and restitch it
Sincere vision - Step into a clearer mirror image
Here, listen - Here's the definition of what isn't
Imprisoned by a system of present popular livin'
All you're gettin' is everything I was given
In rhythm as it was written

[Hook: Andie Kritikos]
I got some deep dark secrets
I keep hidden away
And when the world breaks in and tries to change me
I stay secret the same

[Verse 2]
Everywhere I go, they say "Yo, that's the Dopeman!"
He the one to fuck with if you're lookin' for some substance
No alarm, I mean no harm, all I farm is jargon
If you test it then I betcha I can get you in my clutches
Now anytime you need a prime rhyme, who do you hit up?
The flashy mother fuck in the dead giveaway getup?
Or the mack Dracula whose vernacular never sucks?
Wack rappers get stuffed in the back of Acura trucks
Slapped, cuffed, and snuffed - Hacked up and dumped
Down the boulevard of broken dreams
Never to be seen amongst the envy of the green
It's even more obscene
If you can see who's pullin' every little string behind the scenes
Means I gotta kick somethin' that means somethin'
Your fussin' don't mean nothin'
I function off of verbal esteem young'n, you buggin'
It's like y'all got lost in spirit
I don't understand language of people with soft lyrics
I don't hear it

[Hook: Andie Kritikos]
Broken glass is falling
Over my pretty face
I look God in the eye, wink and smile
It's the same shit every day

[Verse 3]
So I talk a lot - I ain't got a whip, yeah I walk a lot
Smoke good, that's understood, regardless if I cough or not
I like my speakers peakin'
Though my neighbors love to call the cops
Fiends litter the Green Line, they always exit off my stop
Right down the road is where they often go to hustle rock
Where it ain't peculiar when the thugs aim and buck a shot
Word? That's a third world curved around a suburb
Fucked! If I was asked to describe it in one word
People got what they got and they get what they get
The middle class ignore the poor so they can scorn all the rich
And if either would switch places, they'd plead for the same basics
Is it me or just humanity who's off on the script?
Not I - I'm like Popeye - Spinach makes me grimace
So you chitlins best gettin' raisin' the stakes unless you chicken
Lyrics as finger lickin' as diggin' ribs at a picnic
In the park with the Mexicans - Generation Let Me In
You 'bout to let me out this cage though, when I say so
Philosophies can shape shift like Plato made of Play-Doh
From cradle to the grave bro, sporting a broken halo
Come and fuck with my art and depart with a swollen A-hole
Moment I'm on the payroll's the day I'm getting fired
Cause money's what a bank holds
I'm pocketing a riot with my rhymin'
And my genre's in the rough, so I'm a diamond
Though I'm shinin' I still find myself survivin' on this Ramen
Not a problem

[Hook: Andie Kritikos]
The police keep knockin'
Some 'bout a noise complaint
I say officer please, haven't done not a thing
Understand, I just have to sing

I got some deep dark secrets
I keep hidden away
And when the world breaks in and tries to change me
I stay secret the same