Текст песни Double Trouble (The Roots) с переводом

We go wow, ba-da-da-dow-da-dah-ow

Either stand tall, or just sit the fuck down

All the way from the 2−1-5th to Bucktown

Brace yourself, it’s about to go down

Runnin one on one and only hip-hop band

Yo Tariq (whassup) how your microphone sound

(It sound tight) well aight, show em what it’s about

We got to blow up the spot, because they must have forget

We double (trouble) bubble (bubble) bubble (bubblin hot)

Well it’s like smack the track up and leave dents in it

The vocalist, busting this blunt instrument spit

The magnificent, rappers run from it

All fly girls' nipples and toes numb from it

MC’s in my circumference, is confronted son

Get your growth stunted from this, you don’t want it

(What nigga?) The Black Thought and M-O-S Def done it

Who the ultimate? Yo my man speak upon it

Ayo I stop fools and drop jewels but never run it

Rock mics so nice I make you stock price plummet

All you high noon riders better rally at the summit

It’s me and Tariq and your fleet outnumbered

Cross the membrane, barking big game and get hunted

Eyewitness account, say it happened so sudden

Just slid off to the side, didn’t really say nuttin

Then BLAOW, blew away the 1900th

You better get your rest cause the next day comin

Oh yes, and MC’s they scared to say sum’tin

Stop frontin, I’m in the cut just onlookin

Your get your kings, your rooks, rings and pawns tooken

Ayo, keep your tape rolling so you catch every bar

Of the Black Thought and the black man from Black Star

Illadelph and Vietnam we conference, accomplish

Even with stakes inclined, I get mine, regardless

Yo, a lot of Smurfette MC’s carry purses

And rock uniforms that’s made for nurses

I burst your verses, your words is worthless

Only touching surface, the FUCK’s the purpose?

I shot the sherriff, the deputy, and head of bank treasury

So mounties in the county got a BIG bounty stressin me

But tell 'em to hold off, they too short to measure me

Mos and Black Thought blast forth with the weaponry

Like blaow-ba-dow-da-da-dow-da-dah-ow

Either stand tall or sit the fuck down

All the way from the 2−1-5th to Bucktown

Brace yourself, it’s about to go down

Yo Tariq (whassup) how your microphone sound?

(It sound tight) well aight, show em what it’s about

We got to blow up the spot, because they must have forget

We double (trouble) bubble (bubble) bubble (bubblin hot)

Yeah, now check your stove top before you take a listen

And make sure beans don’t burn in the kitchen

These gassed-up niggas just ain’t fuel efficient

I play the winter breeze to choke hold your piston

(eh-eh-eh-eh) Now you niggas can’t make pole position

Class E chassis can’t hold the transmission

Crew pit useless, they got they tools missing

Watch me, Grand Prix, champy for wealth driven

Yo, you go one for my hustle (hustle)

Two to rock rhyme (two to rock rhyme)

From the muscle kid I’m one of the illest of all time

I swing from chandeliers and wall climb

And specialize in warfares of all kind

A lot of MC’s said I’m a run it down rhyme

But half the time, they running down one of mine

Thought suffocating em with yet another stunning line

You dumb and blind kid, it’s enlarged and underlined

What I memorized leave your whole staff pressurized

Melt down all of your artificial lies

Y’all niggas is faker than Yellow No. 5

Swine like mono and diglyceride

My vocals got texture, you just texturized

I’m nicer than your writtens even when I’m improvised

Step into my zone get flown like fly

By the b-boy Lazarus who just won’t die

Yo, me and Kamal and Leonard Hubbard, Questlove and Malik

We go back to dollar hoagies and Tahitian Treat

Or like toast in the oven with government cheese bubbling

Me and Dante like Marvin, The Troublemen travelling

Give me the mic, we on that again

B-boy business, off the top acting and battling

Serving them cats that forgot

But don’t get too close, because you might get shot

Like blaow-ba-dow-da-da-dow-da-dah-ow

Either stand tall or sit the fuck down

All the way from 2−1-5th to Bucktown

Brace yourself, it’s about to go down

Yo Tariq (whassup) how your microphone sound

(It sound tight) well aight, show em what it’s about

We bout to blow up the spot, because y’all must have forget

We double (trouble) bubble (bubble) bubble (bubblin hot)

We go blaow-ba-dow-da-da-dow-da-dah-ow

Either stand tall or sit the fuck down

All the way from the 2−1-5th to Bucktown

Went from Do You Want More!!! to what you want now?

Yo Tariq (whassup) how your microphone sound

(It sound tight) well aight, show em what it’s about

We bout to blow up the spot, because y’all must have forget

We double (trouble) bubble (bubble) bubble (bubblin hot)

Say here’s a little story that must be told

About two young brothers who got so much soul

They taking total control of the body and brain

Flying high in the sky, on a lyrical plane

It’s just two bad brothers who will never quit

Mos Def and Tariq from the 2−1-5th

They rock beginning to end, on a spiritual blend

And everybody who forgot then baby tell em again

It’s just me and Tariq, with Ahmir on the beat

The Roots crew baby yo we got to make it unique

We got the soul-shockinest, body-rockinest

Non-stoppinest, Fortified Live survive the apocalypse

Rhymes we say, the perfect blend

Because we know how to rock when the beat come in

Like zen-zen-zen-zen-zen

Zen-zen-zen-zen-zen, zen-zen, zen-zen

Zen zen-zen, ZEN zen zen ZEN zen zen

Zen zen, ZEN zen zen-zen

Zen-zen-zen, ZEN zen ZEN zen

Here we go, here we here we here we go

Zen zen-zen, ZEN zen zen ZEN zen zen

Zen zen, ZEN zen zen-zen

Zen-zen-zen-zen-zen, zen-zen, zen-zen

Let the poppers pop, and the breakers break

Then zen-zen-zen-zen-zen

Zen-zen-zen-zen-zen, zen-zen, zen-zen

Two years ago, a friend of mine

Zen zen, ZEN zen, zen-zen zen-zen… *fades*