Текст песни Broke Glass (Mouthpi3ce) с переводом

I’m a mathematic equation,

A dilemma to Einstein,

I’m probably considered one of the greatest of all time.

But in reality I ain’t jack doo doo,

A miniature black poodle compared to the God who created all time.

Here’s a T.I.P.,

My «Grand Hustle» is all grind.

If I ain’t glorifying The Lord through these raw lines.

Metaphors, double similes of all kind.

I’m connected to the vine, I am online.

Best believe with every rhyme,

I am on my Billy Madison,

Lift up The Lord, yeah, at all times.

Glorify His name,

It will never lame.

Take it to the streets,

Like I’m David Blaine.

But I don’t dabble in the dark arts,

I’m a light!

We consist of many parts,

This is the body of Christ.

Lyrically body the mics.

Trained potty anybody trying body what’s right,

For the the body of Christ.

For the glory of God,

I’m forever on that.

Send missles where these rappers and they thrones at.

I see stones in they hands,

They ain’t throw 'em yet.

And I’m just trying to be the perfect candidate to throw 'em at.

Say hello to my little friend,

Composition, notepad, black pen,

God let His spirit in.

I pray my life and my writings might mirror Him.

If not, pray them rocks break my mirror in.

I’ll be damned if I do it for them dividends,

So if I don’t ever blow,

I ain’t giving in.

Bump giving up, bump driving Benzes.

Put me in a pick up truck and I’ll still get it in.

Like Tonka,

Ain’t nothing sweet, Willy Wonka.

I’m running through this game like Contra.

(Let's get it in)

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