Pete B - Paranoid remix [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

You paranoid bout women?
Maybe you shouldn't cheat
Learn something from me, Pete B
Tell you something bout real paranoia
Actually, go listen to that Metanoia
Pretty positivo that it tells it all bout me yo
No flavor additive this is pretty cut and dry
Except ranch on the side
You don't really gotta pry for my innermost thoughts
Are they coming for my spot?
Unaccepting of my rank
Only two people to thank
Hate coming from my flank
No college piece of paper for your boy to have and bank on
Thank God I gave that up
All my effort in this rap stuff
More or less it's hip hop
Either way this shit hot
Become the best and get shot down by every emcee
Don't pretend to be something that I'm not
Just a plain kid from two plain towns
With thoughts flying all around
And they never touched down
Opposite of Eddie Lacey
Unhappy bout my placement
Let me tell you a story about me, Pete B
For the past three years it was worry and difficulty
No more stress, said "fuck the university"
Look at my nuts, y'all can imburse in these
And personally y'all impersonaters purposely, perpetrated Pete
Running game centipede
You nothing but a henne-my, an enemy sippin Hennessey
Don't pretend to be kin of me
Reluctant sinner, Pete
Up and did a B-line for her behind
Thoughts is beyond anything you ever thought about
Two years fell off locked myself in a closet, in a room, in a house
C'mon son, thought you had paranoia bout somethin in a blouse?
Real terrors spewing from my mind
Spinning round about
Round and round, back and fourth how my attention go
All out on the table, dinner roll
Where's this about to go?
Tunnel vision, no ceiling, no floor
Am I living? Check my pulse!
Whoa!
You're ok Pete
Pete you're alright, ten-four
Stress has me rubbin on my temples
Playing game with my own mental
Cotton mouth, pop a mento
Have these crazy thoughts yet
I'm still worried bout my dental
They scheming like insurance on a rental
Can't feel my fingers check my pulse
Wait. What I sip from, what I hit on? Nothin?
Can't feel my own tongue
Man, I swear I'm not bluffin
Must be the panic when it hits my inner me
When I get like this, I'm my own enemy
They're really no friends of me
Friends far, rivals further that's the motto b
Model T, weave through the traffic
Sick of livin average
The ass on my girl is makin me think of marriage
Went from sippin purple to a sweet sports beverage
If you talkin shit my dude you have no leverage
I've stated all my faults
Hang onto them, I won't
Befriending me just don't because what I really want
Is not to always be looking over my shoulder
Amongst all of my problems I can't shed this paranoia
Pete B. Riiight? Goodbye