Sassy Window - Beef SQuad [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1: Carlos the Dwarf]
I only cop at Highs and Lows
And only fuck with classy ho's
That belong to my, faggot foes
Who all be out sucking chodes

Getting rode, eating loads
While I be here getting blown
Make her moan, heading home
My bank account seems to grow

I'm a sucker for sloppy endings
And she suck it for sloppy seconds
Like in that movie Monte Carlo
But Selena screaming, "Fuck me Carlos!"

[Verse 2: Prestige]
Are you wathcing closely?
Prestige making his entrance
Make them Christians Bale
I'm the Bane of their existence

If ho's are locks
Then I've got the key
I got that style that
Bring bees to their knees

Believe me sweetie
I got enough kicks for the needy
I better tell Usain
To make them sneakers speedy

[Verse 3: Ding Dong Fallujah Pants]
The shit you are discussing
But what all I hear is nothing
And when sassy Window's coming
Ho you better quit the fronting

We're the shit, You're a bitch
Sassy Window, makes them hits
Where's the bass, Where's the bottle?
Put the nuggets to the throttle

Better turn it up
Cause haters screaming stop
And you better walk away
Cause it's about to drop

[Verse 4: Carlos the Dwarf]
Comme des Fuckdowns, I'm here to fuck now
She like my muck round, her dirty muff mound
She bitter sweet, she up and down
I'm on that ass, she cumming fast

Tina perm your fucking weave
Bitch I burn the fucking leaf
Shit she churned my fucking cheese
Damn she uses too much teeth

Fuck the hash, I want the kief
Getting lost and I'm on the reef
Love the surf, fuck 'Bleeding Knees'
We in a squad, we like the beef

[Verse 5: Prestige]
I shoot rhymes
So I ain't got time for guns
Got a way with words
So they call me silver tongue

I never hang out
But I'm pretty well hung
So when she choke on that dick
I might just touch her lung

If a girl make me wait
I ain't gonna hesitate
Find some drunk jail bait
And decide her fate

[Verse 6: Ding Dong Fallujah Pants]
Eating so much Panda
Man the species is at risk
And I'm sipping on that A and dubs
Pop in that Fifa disc

Cause this is something you ain't running
And we're smacking on her muffins
And she's snacking on our dumplings
And our stuffings on her pumpkins

My boy Prestige
He'll rip your legs apart
And maybe if you're lucky
He'll shit in your pop tarts