Pudgee - Think Big [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Big Poppa, throwing niggas off of cliffs, smoking spliffs
Disappear with my bitch in a Mitsubishi Eclipse
Read my lips, I kill you
Blood'll spill too, did I say thank you
I grant you three wishes cause I be the genie
Niggas is assed out like fat bitches in bikinis
Read between the lines see what I see
I see the diary of a sick bastard
Junior Mafia blaster, Rugers on the hips
Bought coke to flip chips, bought slugs to fill clips
Flipping coke in corner store bodegas
In the back room playing Sega, Street Fighter II
I'm inviting you, bring your writing crew and they dopest rhymes
I get up in that ass every time
Lyrically I'm untouchable, uncrushable
Getting mad blunted in the 600
Benz, ask your friends who's the illest
Licking shots, niggas screaming "Biggie Smalls tried to kill us"

[Hook: Lord Tariq]
You think big you get big, champagne and Moet
You can party til you sweat, the money's yours to get
Cash in abundance, paper stacks in the hundreds
One thousand for the gators, hard stares for the traitors

[Verse 2: Pudgee]
I be a thang slinger, body boom here come the banger
Your mother should have pulled you out with a fucking hanger
Word up, what's your motherfucking deal, nigga
Fuck Polo, you can call me Tommy Real Nigga
To all emcees that envy that's trying
Never me and you, take it easy like Mad Lion
If you mess with me, your family
Will be missing you like we miss EPMD
But if you don't believe me you can come and see me though
And you sure will be over just like Arsenio
I come-a-calling, you niggas be stalling
I got the unbelievable like my nigga Smalls and
Release date, man I can't wait
That ass getting cash like a New York nigga out of state
To the ladies don't waste your time
Only 69 that I do is *69
Give you drama like 2Pac so you gots to give me dap
For fun, putting 'em on the run like Kool G Rap
Like Michael Jackson off the wall for y'all
I'm making people forget you like R Kelly did to Aaron Hall

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Lord Tariq]
In God we trust, in hoes we lust
In clothes and cash and cars a must
Yo I'm the 86 survivor so bear witness to my theme
I only play with my team, two hundred thousand in my dream
Bitches love this curly headed threat, far from a herb
Draw my nigga and I squeeze for Gs quicker than a serve
I got styles for miles the Bronx and Harlem runner-up
You think big you get big, I want it all fuck a cut
Yo fuck beepers, fuck hustling for sneakers and car speakers
Give me cars and stores to transform this drug caper
Hustling money's dead kid I want Arab and Jew paper
And now I'm the sheik the Lord Tariq
So let the resurrected Willie speak cause I'd rather die upon my feet
My dress code explodes, paying hundreds for jeans
Yo I could play a pair of Lees and reign Willie Supreme
BBS ride the ave beside the African gypsy cab driver
While I let you check the style of a survivor (MacGyver)
Your shit is smothered yo I got New York covered
End of story, I'm the last and there will be never be another
Motherfucker

[Hook]