UGK - That's Why I Carry [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Hook]
Motherfuckers wanna start shit in every way
That's why I carry my motherfucking gun every single day

[Verse 1: Bun B]
My nigga, you done pushed the wrong button I ain't never ran this hot
Now you the number one nigga I wanna whoop the piss out
And this not a threat, bet that, I ain't gonna let that slide
Gotta get that bitch right, want him dead by midnight
I followed him from his crib to the crack spot
I watched him go in and come back out, I got ready to pull the Mac out
Sandwiched him by the feeder of 610
Unloaded the pistol, now dirt is now what his dick in
Shit, I seen a slab get stripped
The discs, seats, and sound gone, and candy paint burnt to a crisp
These niggas gettin' hated on for the '84s that they skated on
Jackers in the dark alley waited on
The fool comin' out the gamblin' shack
Pistol to his back, took 4 ounces of crack, and a fat doja sack
That's why I pack, my nigga, that's why I pray
Cause where I stay I got to carry my muthafuckin' gun every single day

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Pimp C]
The p-l-e-x is crowding all my space
'Bout to pop this motherfucker cause he standing in my place
He selling on my block, jacking from my boys
They coming on our side throwing down and talking noise
Now, I occupy my time hustling and getting paid
He occupying his time trying to get boys for they blades
Getting 'em for they Chevy 'Burbans, they jumping out of who doos
Coming down swinging, jumping out of candy blues talking 'bout give it up smooth
Baby boy, it's some hating going on in P.A
Mostly over stinky bitches and who sold the most yay
Niggas stunting, pulling pistols ending up in the grave
When I pull I always pop, that's why I'm living today
Girl-ass niggas causing plex between friends
And when you bust on your boy don't neither one of y'all niggas win
You end up killing somebody that you really ain't wanna kill
Over a pussy-ass nigga that's showing ho-type skills

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Bun B]
Coming from the small town of madness, late night its all murd'rers
Player haters, scan'lous hoes, and 'Lac-driving slab hurters
Acting bad after 8, you can catch us on the late
Rolling dice, blowing, and sipping on the bar straight
We got the red drank, orange drank, purple drank
Laughing at these mark hoes that say they never heard of drank
Half-gallon Big Gulp, Big Red, big cup
Drink mixed up, blowing sweets, and lighting sticks up
Now in my new world, slow down, I can see
Niggas talking shit, trying to see if what they said got to me
But ho-ass type of skills say a lot to me
You just gon' fuck around and get yourself shot, to be
Or not to be, motherfuckers plot to see me crack
Under pressure, so they just impress a nigga to see me react
These niggas try to start me down like a scary clown
Don't dare me, 'round here we fuck your game up like Larry Brown
And carry pounds of killer 'round like groceries
With a presence that make you not want to stand close to me
Talking about we s'posed to be brothers
Don't make me laugh motherfuckers
You chose to be on the side opposing me
Don't matter what coast you be
From, Bun and C will light your world up explosively

[Hook]