Текст песни Dumb It Down (Lupe Fiasco) с переводом

I’m fearless, now hear this, I’m earless

And I’m peerless, that means I’m eyeless

Which means I’m tearless, which means my iris

Resides where my ears is, which means I’m blinded

But I’ma find it, I can feel its nearness

But I’ma veer, so I don’t come near

Like a chicken or a deer, but I remember

I’m not a listener or a seer so my windshield smear

Here you steer, I really shouldn’t be behind this

Clearly cause my blindness

The windshield is menstrual, the whole grill is roadkill

So trill and so sincere, yeah, I’m both them there

Took both pills when the bloke in the trench coat

And the locs in the chair had approached him here

Made it clear as a ghost or a biter of the throats in the mirror

The writer of the quotes for the ghosts

Who supplier of the notes to the living

Riveting as Rosie, pockets full of posies

Given to the mother of the deceased

Awake and at war 'til I’m resting in peace

You going over niggas heads, Lu (Dumb it down!)

They telling me that they don’t feel you (Dumb it down!)

We ain’t graduate from school, nigga (Dumb it down!)

Them big words ain’t cool, nigga (Dumb it down!)

Yeah I heard «Mean and Vicious,» nigga (Dumb it down!)

Make a song for the bitches, nigga! (Dumb it down!)

We don’t care about the weather nigga (Dumb it down!)

You’ll sell more records if you (Dumb it down!)

And I’m mouthless, which means I’m soundless

Now as far as the hearing, I’ve found it

It was as far as the distance from the earring to the ground is

But the doorknockers on the ear

Of a stewardess in a Lear, she’s fine and she’s flying

I feel I’m flying by 'em, cause my mind’s on cloud nine

And in a mine at the same time

Pimps see the wings on the Underground King

Who’s also Klingon, to infinity and beyond

Something really stinks, but I Sphinx like Leon

Or lion in the desert

I’m flying on Pegasus, you’re flying on a pheasant

Writer of the white powder, picker of the fire flowers

Spit, «hot fiya» like Dylan on Chappelle’s skit

Yeah, smell it on my unicorn

Don’t snort the white horse, but toot my own horn

Sleep?

You’ve been shedding too much light, Lu (Dumb it down!)

You’re makin 'em wanna do right, Lu (Dumb it down!)

They’re gettin' self-esteem, Lu (Dumb it down!)

These girls are trying to be queens, Lu (Dumb it down!)

They’re trying to graduate from school, Lu (Dumb it down!)

They’re startin' to think that smart is cool, Lu (Dumb it down!)

They’re trying to get up out the hood, Lu (Dumb it down!)

I’ll tell you what you should do (Dumb it down!)

And I’m brainless, which means I’m headless

Like Ichabod Crane is

Or foreplay-less sex is, which makes me saneless

With no neck left to hang the chain with

Which makes me necklace-less, like a necklace theft

And I ain’t used my headrest yet

They said they need proof like a vestless chest

About the best-fed F-F jet in the nest

Who exudes confidence and excess depth

Even Scuba Steve would find it hard to breathe

Around these leagues; my snorkel is a tuba

Lu the ruler around these seas

Westside Poseidon, Westside beside 'em

Chest-high and rising, almost touching the knees

Of stewardess and the pilot, lucky they make ya fly with

Personal floating devices, tricks falling out of my sleeves

David Blaine, make it rain

You make a boat, I make a plane

Then, I pull the plug and I make it drain

Until I feel like flowing and filling it up again

Westside!

You putting me to sleep, nigga (Dumb it down!)

'S'why you ain’t popping in the streets, nigga! (Dumb it down!)

You ain’t winning no awards nigga! (Dumb it down!)

Robots and skateboards, nigga?! (Dumb it down!)

GQ Man of the Year, G? (Dumb it down!)

Shit ain’t rocking over here, B (Dumb it down!)

Won’t you talk about your cars nigga? (Dumb it down!)

What the fuck is Goyard nigga (Dumb it down!)

Make it rain for the chicks (Dumb it down!)

Po' CHAMPAGNE on a bitch! (Dumb it down!)

What the fuck is WRONG WITH YOU?! (Dumb it down!)

…How can I get on a song with you? (Dumb it down!)

Look B, here’s my main, my two-way

Uh, what should I, ah, here take this

That right there, fuck what my boys’ll talk about me, nigga

Nigga, you hot to me! I like you! (Dumb it down!)

Bishop G, they told me I should come down, cousin

But I flatly refuse: I ain’t dumb down nothing!

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