Текст песни Godfather (Shyne) с переводом

Uh huh, Uh huh, Brooklyn Vietnam

What you, Uh yeah, Uh, Come on

Oh no, big Shyne Po

Back up in the motherfuckin heezy for sheezy

Gimme a tech that don’t jam (bang bang)

I’m tryin to jucks some more grams and work this whole thing

My minds poisoned, corrupted and diseased

360 ki’s

Money make the world spin

I make your chest smoke

Have your mother singing hymms

Particles of your brains up on your tims

Kiss you before I twist you

170 miles

Headed for disaster faster

I put it down right

Bustin off these rounds like

Real niggas is kings

You ain’t rockin' that crown right

Harder more PK watches

Topless, bitches in cars

Only meals could heal my scars

Niggas wanna rhyme like shine like me

They supposed to

Niggas wanna bust their guns like me

They supposed to

Niggas wanna grind like crime like me

They supposed to

Niggas wanna mash like me, dash like me

Allegations got me pacin'

Grand jury wouldn’t understand my fury

For fast cars and jewelry

I could give a fuck if there’s a heaven for a G

This is heaven for me

Go to trial never plea

Do a bullet and come home to the throne

I don’t rhyme, I just talk about this life that’s mine

I’ve seen niggas die, in front of my eyes

Doin' my filth

Niggas is expiring like milk

Different strokes for different folks

Just give me, different coke in different boats

Black Aristotle Onassis

All I see is crack addicts and automatics

You rap niggas is faggots

Y’all cannot be serious

I’m in coupes with gucci interiors

Airin' out your areas

Tech nines, two in the flex and shit

Lookin' at myself like

Yo, I’m the best in this

Sometimes I really wonder

What’s it all about?

How many bitches can I fuck until I get out

How many ki’s can I cut, guns can I bust

Wigs can I push, spots can I juck

Every single one, cuz I’m a fuckin' savage

Til I’m cremated, most hated, self made

Blood type G

All these young hustlers wanna bubble like me

They supposed to

Sippin on syrup, until I perish

Pickin' bitches off the run-way

Look forward to, gun-play

Go to sleep with one eye shut

Wake up and do the same shit

I ain’t never gonna change bitch

And that’s the cycle

I don’t wanna be like Michael

More like Darrell Porter

Gettin' shipments at the border

Yeah, it’s a wrappity wrap

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