Текст песни Fge Cypher, Pt. 2 (J Real) с переводом

Yeah, TO3

Yeah

Body after body all I know is murder, I’m from the darkside

If I have to draw, serve like volleyball, and then drop it on y’all side

That’s why I try hard to not get involved, and stay under God’s lie

When I promise tomorrow I just saw at their face, and pray for those lost eyes

Nigga’s playing games with this shit

Why I’m hoping brains will get hit

I target minds, I ain’t talkin' shells

But I really aim in this spit

What’s your direction, nigga?

Do you know where you heading, nigga?

Hope it’s to the cheddar, nigga

Then the heaven nigga, or whatever

But can’t be around me if you don’t want better, nigga

Yeah I know I’m ahead of niggas

And I don’t embellish, nigga

I try not to embarrass niggas

But sometimes I can’t help it, it’s not in my character

It’s just God’s will that he carry with him

And you know that my grave with him

Case the hate get too real, it’s okay, get buried with them

I will not Tom and Jerry with them

Cherry pick 'em, and drop every top that get hairy with him

I should thank God I ain’t kickin' in doors no more

Emptying poles no more

50's on the road though hoe

It ain’t nothing to blow your show

But I’m in it to go get the cash

Give and get the love tryin' to reach the fans

Motivate they plans

Give 'em what I can

Give 'em to the man

Hopin' they advance

'Cause with no delay I’m going

I’m growing, I’m glowin'

If it’s war bitch, then I’m blowin'

No rims nigga, I’m scorin'

My wings up bitch, I’m soarin'

FGE poppin', that’s corn

And they knowing

We got it fucking going on, that’s porn, nigga

FGE shit

Mob shit, man

Mob! It’s $avage!

I’m the nigga with the wings

And I lift 'em up, middle fingers up

To the PPD, 309 pistol county where I’m from

Sip a lotta lean

Roll a lotta gas, do a lotta drugs

If I want ya boys bands, I hit him up

It’ll be 2k, that’ll split him up

Call my nigga Real

I’ma get the back, you go get the front

Bandanas like Montana’s over my face when I hit 'em up

Roll on 'em like Alabama

Once I up seven better give it up

Like a 6−4

Drop his top then put 'em in the trunk

Better get low

Fore the fifth blow

Blowin big dro

36 O’s

Shout out big moe

That my big bro

Momma told me how these nigga’s switch though

Keep a big a pole

With extendos

Like a joystick

On Nintendos

Like I’m workin in the drive through

Give it to 'em right through the window

Chopper spray

Bodies drop

Niggas ride away

Where I’m from its the slums, nigga

Get theyself fucked up a lotta ways

I ain’t saying that you gotta pray

But I seen it coming like a mile away

I’m just saying what I got to say

Prolly not today

But every motherfucker got a day

Yeah, y’all know how I’m rockin, bitch

J-Real, uh, 15

Picture me rollin' like 2Pac

Out the window blowin two Glocks

Pullin up like tube socks

With more ratchets than a toolbox

Ain’t a rapper, bitch, I’m a shooter

Your bitch, she gonna suck like a loser

Slurp me up like noodles

Then it’s back gettin that mulah, yeah

Tip toe to that cash

Till that front door

Then it’s kick door

While I grip pole for that cash

Hell no I don’t need no mask

Nigga’s hoes, they already know

They don’t want me up foldin' 'em on that ass

In that 4-door with the 4−0

Hop out blowin' at they ass

Acting like I never had shit

'Cause I never, ever, had shit

And after every show I got a bad bitch

Touching on me like a tablet

Yeah, that bitch she on me

She just prolly wanna meet Tony

But you know the rules

Gotta meet broski

Then broski and broski

Yeah

You know you gotta do broski 'nem

It’s No Fatigue

Y’all can remember this, too

Blowin' Powerpuff with these bitches nice

Sugar with the spice

I’ma get em right

Coming from the bottom like some fucking ice

See the green clear like a fuckin' Sprite

When I hit the booth it don’t be nothin' nice

And bitches want the D, I got a couple hypes

They gonna let me hit like a bunch of likes

When she throw it back like a bunch of hikes

Tell bud he better be wiser before he get hit in his six-pack

Right out the can, yeah, sip that

That’ll make a pussy nigga sit back

He can get the forty like he bet a dub

He can get the forty like he bet on one

I bet I be hotter if he bet the sun

Had to branch off from the separate ones

See that boy runnin' like a street sign?

We gon' give that pussy boy a peace sign

All these bitches want me like iPhones

Tell her slide on me, I need iHome

In your ho’s-tel, no room b

Still slidin', no room key

Your bitch suck like they booing

Nigga’s mad at me like ooooweee

Young boy cool like the 3-Cs

Met a pretty girl with the 3-Bs

Spray in his house like febreze

Mask on, nigga can’t see me

I don’t rock with niggas 'cause they offbeat

I be talkin' money, nigga’s talk cheap

I be in her mouth like false teeth

Then I’m in between like flossing

Roll up smoking with these Bs

I hit that bitch in the eve

She shake it like tambourine

I just had to hit and run

Hope she don’t say please when I leave

I ball, I pull up like a sleeve

Her pussy pink like that lean

Touchin' my chest 'cause I’m king

She wanna search just like Bing

Now that bitch got what she need

Ballin', but not in the league

'Tigue

Rap God, FGE shit

You already know how we comin', man

Bases loaded in this bitch

Uhuuuhh

Fire in the church

There’s liars in the church

Scratch the surface, find a diamond in the dirt

You gotta grind until it hurts

I am triumphed and diversed

Flow rare, unfair, might start a riot with this verse

I will father like Mufasa 'til I’m lyin' in the hearse

Drive your lioners berserk

I see clients in my merch

Ok, I’m breaded bitch

You know I’m breaded like mozzarella sticks

Godly, how is he heaven sent but so devilish?

The coldest flow, colder than any Eskimos ever been

Was sellin' shit

I served for 8 years, I felt like the president

Been nailin' shit

You’ll get off tonight like you workin' second shift

Wings up, all praise to the merciful and beneficent

I second guess the message

The truth ain’t never pleasant

The future’s present hip-hop's alive and resurrected

Play with me and I’m airin' opps

It get’s uglier than Carrot Top

Leave her pussy bloody like its cherry popped

Six feet deep, three pair of socks

Put 'em in the ground, that’s deep rooted

We keep winnin', y’all keep losin'

We don’t twitter beef, bitch we shootin'

All kinda clips, come preview it

This clip in my AK got 50 in it, that’s G-Unit

Got another clip with a hundred rounds

That got mo' in it, that’s 3 Stooges

Plus 30 in my Dez Eagle

Turn 'em into red people

Whack em while their jewelry on

Nigga, icy dead people

Glock sing when the mops wring

Lay 'em down first like a box-spring

Had to sauce on 'em like some hot wings

We be goin' in like a swat team

Squah!