Текст песни Fantastic 4 (Cam'ron) с переводом

You never hear that we buckle; beef? We chuckle

Scuffle over a game of pinochle

Anything up on my money, man, I gotta see double

Unless you want trouble

Oh, you realer now?

I’m the kind to cut a peace of soap, put it on the imbecile

Crack the Hen Rock style, give me the foul

Girls grope then I smile

That’s when they fall cause they met my balls

Right after I played ball

No wash-up, no nothin'. Hear what I say y’all?

O.K. y’all. Ask AJ y’all

I’ll turn the baddest bitch gay y’all

Like Stacy, damn, she was eatin' Tracy’s ass

At this other lady’s pad

To get it on I had to call up Desert Storm

My cut-throats scar y’all, while you hope the Don fall

But I’ll come inside The Tunnel, nigga, wit Pope John Paul

Yo, them niggas on the wall frontin', they ain’t no harm y’all

My crew’ll break each shoulder

I’m that nigga they talk about on Street Soldiers

Cause my street soldiers are heat holders and weed rollers

We keep 2 bones and 2 phones in each Rover

We all relaxed and any beef we over-reactin

Peace to Lorey Actins, but I get buck wild like Corey Jackson

Playin' is called off, cause y’all about to get hauled off

Y’all all soft from smokin Nicholi (/nicks), nigga, like Volkof

Know what I mean yo? Notice the cream grow

I fiend though, I’ll come fuck up your whole town like El Nino

I’m the hottest nigga you’ve seen though

Jumpin outta Lex Coupe

With Jimmy Jones right next to me in the Benz Truck too

Fuck all y’all non-believers, I roll wit God, the squad and T. S

Out wit the BS; we platinum, they even doubted Jesus

Niggas is 85%, I’m 400 solid

Brainbolic wit knowledge, cock-diesel scholars

Holdin it down, walkin around with gold by the pound

Frozen and drownin with diamond boulders all in the crown

Talk of the town, soakin you down with the toast 'til you drown

Ghost you and pound your corpse with a force that’ll open the ground

Save the jokes for the clowns, I’m on a serious tip

You keep playin and I get furious quick

And now I take you for a walk through the ghetto

Either spark your metal or get outlined in chalk by the devil

I rep the borough that mothered this rap shit

I used to clap shit, now I just lay back and mack on some mack shit

I used to have to pack a mack in the back of the Ac

Now I relax and stack platinum plaques in my shack

It’s like that but don’t think I won’t counter act

My niggas is strapped and quick to lay a bitch on his back

I’m swift with the mack, quicker than Kung Fu

With the reflexes of a cat and the speed of a mongoose

Talk about huh? That’s what we talk about thug shit

Now it’s a symphony, without me on it, it ain’t a symphony

My crew shit on cats without Tiffany

N-O-R-E, I just lace the heat

I don’t complain about the track, give me any beat

I get hed in the wip on any street

I fuck wit Clue, other cats is snakes

I’ve been fuckin' with Clue since he made 60 minute tapes

We copped mad bottles and crushed many grapes

We from the hood and they from the hood

The difference is we get plaques, they go double wood

Took the game right over at the time they could

Them niggas silly though, knowin' Nore lay pretty low

But them niggas is mos like the Maxwell video

I got 2 albums and 2 cars

Now bitches on my dick cause of Chico DeBarge

Thugged Out’s 1st lady (let's go half on a lady)

Ya motherfuckers ain’t live, don’t control the streets

I sold 163 thou on my 1st week

That means I got more fans than you

Bigger plans than you

We buy real coke, your grams is blue

Ai yo, the President is like me, he smoke weed too

Don’t really like to fuck, he just get hed too

Stick a broom in your butt, tell you, «go head boo»

Thugged Out motherfuckers like the rest of the crew

Canibus, Cam’Ron and Punisher too

And the beats are usually done by Duro and Clue

Who in the hell wanna battle, the ill mathematical?

My motherfuckin' brain is IBM compatible

Techniques are foreign, far from being borin

My style is hard like cancer without McCorman

I run threw your crew like the flu when I bomb it

My styles like AIDS cause don’t nobody want it

Niggas frontin' like they hard

But I’m a Street Fighter like Jean Claude

And I’ll split your shit, god

Right down the middle

Play you like a riddle

I got a fetish for titties, I nibble on the nipple

Then trespass on your property like Monopoly

Subdue your crew and beat that ass properly

Welcome to the Desert Storm annual extravaganza

Clue rolls deeper than the cart-rides on Bonanza

I feed off weed, natural energy sources

Lyrics with more power than the horses they put in Porsches

Can’t be tested or F’ed wit, I’m too reckless

I chop off heads just to take the necklace

The type of Canibus (/cannabis) that’s side-effectless

The type of shit that get the Question-mark Man arrested

Take evasive action

Flip like reciprocal fractions

Turn the heat up on MCs to watch their meat blacken

You try get fly, you get electrified and fried

Fuck around and get your mouth slapped dry

You could battle me and possibly survive

But you could never see me and walk away without a black eye

Word up hop, CLUEminat call the cops

And if the cops ain’t tryin' to see me, then the cops call SWAT

Scar your whole squad with bullet scars

No holds barred

I’ll even hassle the National Guard

Ready or not like the Fugees

Crews be steppin' to me

But I wipe em' all out like booty

I’m so unruly, the police don’t say nothin' to me

It don’t matter whether they on or off duty

I murder you brutally when I spit at you

My actions are unforgivable

Look at what CLUEminati did to you

The maximum lyrical, nigga you minimal

There’s a big hole in the desert, I told the men in blue to dig for you

Motherfucker… CLUEminati ninety-eight

DJ Clue… The Professional