Текст песни Burning Season (Killarmy) с переводом

Crazy head get out there God

Blast that nigga hard

It’s all real over here

Killa Sin, 9th Prince, what

We don’t give a fuck

Yo, it’s burning season

Y’all thugs is guiltly of high treason

Many of them bleeding

Some getting sent to the brain for no reason

On the streets niggas kill without a license, in Scarsville

It’s all for real cause everything is real

Don’t sleep on the average cat he’s packing steel

Ayo nigga I’m on the cash rules

Wasted in my hand, half a hundred grand

Injure that pretender in the black land

Heard he be the crack man

Selling major jums (?) by the pager son

He the one sporting crazy tunes (?) lace 'em with your tongue

So here’s the plan

Get the Glock I got the doo-wop

Follow him for two blocks

And pop him if he do cock

Scat back better snap his nap back for that black

Pass the stacks to Fat Cat and find out where the crack’s at

Rolling out make sure you keep your phone out

So I can reach your shit quick

Get his whip stripped and take my own route

For safety

Mistakes be for hasty

Many jakes who chase me

But never have the space to embrace me

A fool’s game where all the rules change

I never move the same

But who’s to blame

My nigga Buddha came with the ruger aim

Somebody screamed stop the violence

So this nigga had the silencer spitting black talons at any challenger

Yo, it was a ghetto Vietnam I tried to flee and harm

Me and Har my nigga Buddha caught about three in the arm

But one traveled to his abdomen

I grabbed him and embraced him

Had to see how bad this crab had laced him

Yo, rapidly bleeding started pleading for his life

Take care my seed and my wife

Make sure she’s feeding him right

True indeed black I got your back

I hold it down on the real

May you rest in peace son

I see you on the ground

Many times I fought the urge to resort to crime

But I find my criminal mind complying with the villain kind

I’m feeling nines 'til they overflow

Going blow for blow with the rest

Cause them try and test the best

It’s a slug fest

Round one sounds wrong I found one

Lurking in the back now clapped him with my pound son

The shells drop

Old ladies yell for the cops and shorty shot shit

Fell in the arms of his pops and didn’t mean to

Why he had them running away

Should have taught him how to duck when he heard the fucking gun spray

I say a prayer for the kid, keep stepping

With my weapon cocked wetting up the block every section hot

The gats flash out by leaps and bounds

Now police and hounds making up grounds

Cause they chasing me down

I’m all alone in this war zone

My brain’s under stress

Thinking I’m blessed if I can make it home

Scared to death kid

Catch my breath I bear left

Hit the weeds and then rest to calm my chest

But an undercover had discovered my plot and plan

I shot the man so I dropped my Glock and ran

Get the fuck out the way, move, move

Get the fuck out the way, oh shit

Yo, I made a rally to a dark alley

Where I bumped heads with crackhead Fred and his bitch named Sally

She had a down low lab for me to go to

Where I could relax and count stacks like I’m supposed to

Keep my whereabouts on the hush hush

I had to provide some heroin high, sick grooves, and five bags of dust

I didn’t wet up or let it slide because I was petrified

If homicide got me they gonna watch me die

Fuck that, I’m going all out

No half stepping

My last weapon is cocked to keep that ass jetting

I lay low for like five days or so

Put some troopers on the block round the clock to make me dough

Yo out of sight and out of mind be my motto

I promise myself I’m gonna make it to see tomorrow

Word up, Killarm '96

Killa Sin, word up

9th Prince

The saga continues

For real though gotta let these niggas know

To the rounds in the cut, all real niggas raise up