Tyler Tracey - Flick My Bic [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Verse:
Fuck rapping, I'm a professional baller
Make a milli off a track and blow every last dollar
I'm not a bartender but I'm a fucking shot caller
Your bitch a groupie tonight and damn right I saw her
Hoes on this dick, I rock a mic like Vick
This bitch wanna ride but she don't even drive stick
She wanna show me a trick, "Look! No hands!"
I see her magic box when I disappear her pants
Been rhyming since I was just nine
And now I'm killing rappers one beat at a time
Speeding through this game no stop sign
Imma take all your jewels and flash them like they mine
Snapbacks and zig zags
Backpacks and black flags
Feeling gone off this ice blue bong
On the green mile, no Tom Hanks
Feeling fresh like a Tic Tac
Riding around wearing all black
I'm fly like a sparrow, call me Jack
No dick riders, get off my nutsac
Back to back to back hits, people
I'm a player like a dog but never a beagle
More like a pitbull without the shitty music
Tear you limb from limb if you acting foolish
NeoJock creates monster instrumentals
I spit enough venom to depaint the walls
Bars so cold your car stalls
Lines so sick your doctor calls
I'm a Lacrosse player and rap slayer
Hip-Hop is the city and I'm the fucking mayor
Fuck that, I'm the President of this industry
You're lucky I don't dictate and have ya'll bow to me
It's the bottom of the inning and bases are loaded
They expect a homerun, the ceiling has opened
I got a hundred thousand fans all watching in the stands
Just hit the pitch, bitch, grand slam
Sports metaphors so ya'll understand
Don't want it to complicate your minds
Listening to wack music with weak lines
About fabricated crimes and whisper war cries
This generation don't know true rhyme skills
Rappers will say anything to stack them Benjamin bills
Pac would've murdered you all if he could hear this
If he was alive none of ya'll would have hits
Then people wonder why albums don't sell
Because the real lyricists are either dead or in jail
The other ones like Nas and Em are trying to save rap
But they gotta market to these kids listening to crap
So here we go, kick this track
Time to bring real rap back
I gotta save this generation of rap fans
And put my team on the map
Jesus pieces aren't what make a man
Setting goals and pushing forward is the plan
To success, ya'll gotta understand
Being the best doesn't just hop out of the pan
This is an art so show some respect
Don't just do it for the cheque
Look at yourself in the mirror and check
Before you wind up in a wreck
I'm sick of all these fake ass bitches
Only in this game for the money and the riches
Ya'll motherfuckers ain't even worth to suck my dick
So you pussy bitches can just flick my bic