Terra G - Hoarse [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Malice planning pacifist. Rapping in the fashion of nannies soothing a sassy fit
Try to challenge the alchemist. Attempts prove futile like trying to nuke a masochist
Savvy kid, his swagger is canny
Try to catch him you can't like black kids running laps at a track meat

Sick rhyming crack artist his flow shakes Parkinson's
Parsing lips are burning tracks, it's the rap arsonist
Spit bars dark like the heart of the fucking archer bitch
Articulate flow shows novices where the arctic is

Show me a dude who could spit with the same drool as this
But I'm living proof that a miracle exists
I spit minerals so its pitiful to see how critics are ridiculing this for criminal lyrics
The spirit of rap is inside this
Try to hear it but you can't. Better fear it. Got the youth in hysterics
Tear a critic's larynx with his tooth, grin and bear it

Foes become the culprit of a potent cobra bite. Tracks scolding like molten lava and coals alike
Hoards his rhymes. Then leaves corps in a wordless plight so combating him would end in a worthless fight

I'm storming the fortress. Grabbing pitch forks and torches
Porking this rap game it's corpus lies porous on the floor
It's over. Life gave me lemons. I'm throwing fucking oranges
Ambidextrous cortices forming words correlating to punches like George Forman

Air tight line forged tighter than a Gordian knot. According to pop
I'm doper than crack and so before you say a word to me
Doc, back down if you're morally shot

Keep it cracking like the titans are clashing
The harsh hash assassin has a masochist spasming
Passes has-beens and spams piss like his bladder is maddening
Grab a pad of maxi if you're fags can't handle me

Well versed and verses are wit versatile
Unmerciful lips. His spits surgical
Firm fist fits and clinched the lynched cervical. Serving curses and worsen it
So Merlin thinks that shits purposeful. You can't trace with superlatives
Get a taste of too purgative. Haters shins hurting like hit hurdles so
Doubters and bitch circles are targets making that list first to go. Hit em bro

The archetype of a Martian
Slight margin of error is tight
Marching in a marsh of margarine. And the air is thin
They all pale in comparison. Embarrassing actually
Perpetrate impersonators perforated with kerosine till the barrel's seen
Terror screams when words attack like feral fiends