Текст песни Get Your Grind On (Freeway) с переводом

But I would’ve loved to hear

A Big Pun and B.I.G. collabo

That shit would’ve been incredible

Aye you know what I’m sayin', it was just happen

We have our day, you know?

I seen him, I seen him, I seen him at the pearly gates, yaknahmean?

We keep it, keep it, keep it goin' from there

Uhh, I drink filthy

My moms and pops mixed me with Jamaican Rum and Whiskey

Huh, what a set up

Shoulda pushed 'em dead off, wipe the sweat off

Uhh, 'cause in this world I’m dead off, squeeze lead off

Benz sped off, ain’t no shook hands in Brook-land

Army fatigue break up teams, the enemies

Look man, you wanna see me locked up, shot up

Moms crotched up over the casket, screamin' «BASTARD!»

Cryin', know my friends is lyin'

Y’all know who killed 'em filled 'em with the lugars from they Rugers

Or they Desert, dyin' ain’t the shit but it’s pleasant

Kinda quiet, watch my niggas bring the riot

Giving cats the opposite of diets

You gain thirty pounds when you die no lie, lazy eye

I was high when they hit me, took a few cats with me

Shit, I need the company (uh-huh)

Apologies in order, to T’Yanna my daughter

If it was up to me you would be with me, sorta like

Daddy Dearest, my vision be the clearest

Silencers so you can’t hear it

Competition still fear it, shit don’t ask me

I went from ashy to nasty to classy, and still

Nigga still gotta get his grind on

Come get introduced to my home

I grew up in the crime zone

Soon as you grown, you on your own, you keep your strap

You keep your chrome 'cause the streets is chilly

Now get your grind on

Come get introduced to my home

A nigga grew up in the pro-jects, end up gettin' mo' stressed

Mo' money, mo' drama you know a nigga keep his armor

'Cause the streets are killin'

Now get your grind on

Come get introduced to my home

Yo, yo

The penalty is death, especially when I’m mentally stressed

My enemies hang with me 'til I eventually flip

I never reject an offer to battle

Slap a coffin on the saddle

And rattle like a wooden horse to el barrio

Niggas talk but they babble 'cause they ain’t sayin' nuttin'

If ain’t blazin somethin' with the MAC, I’m in the shack bakin' muffins

Fake the funk and get your rump roast

One dose of the toast’ll make you jump if you come close

Pun spoke, ain’t no more debatin'; my Squad been waitin'

For the perfect time to give you what you all been waitin'

An orgi-nation of veterans built

With genuine skills to pay the heat, gas, and the rest of the bills

Invest in the real, don’t get left in the hills

My TEC and my steel turn your whole crew into vega-ta-bles

We blessed with the will to never surrender

'Cause my every agenda’s in and out

Unseen like I entered the ninja, it’s my world

Nigga still gotta get his grind on

Come get introduced to my home

I grew up in the crime zone

Soon as you grown, you on your own, you keep your strap

You keep your chrome 'cause the streets is chilly

Now get your grind on

Come get introduced to my home

A nigga grew up in the pro-jects, end up gettin' mo' stressed

Mo' money, mo' drama you know a nigga keep his armor

'Cause the streets are killin'

Now get your grind on

I got that new F-N, call it that faggot nigga gun

Couple of hollow tips make you faggot niggas run

Crack pull up, everybody clear out

Anybody pumpin' that rock is gettin' aired out

I’m in that caddy with my bitch in the pack

Your mommy got a body but she itchin' to clap

And I know you pitchin' purple but we switchin' the packs

Listen, don’t make me hurt you I’m just givin' the facts

On that I 9−5 swervin' to a town near you

My niggas watch out for that Black Suburbans

And no it’s not the Feds, man papi’s home

And papi got it good, he could put you on

Listen, I done made abandoned blocks look hot

Nine to ten Benzes, a couple of drops

Couple of rubber bands from the corrupt cops

Just to see my niggas eat and shit and huggin' the blocks

Crack a chastise 'em, right besides 'em

In front of a hundred million viewers, shouldn’t surprise 'em

We from the Bronx where the may-ors lift up

And niggas get shot in broad day 'cause we don’t give a…

Fuck, little niggas on bike and just shoot you

All for a pair of some Nikes, the shit’s brutal

I done seen fiends O.D., shot the wrong pack

Then they call the shit the bomb smack

Word to Crack, the God body, the hard body, the realest ever

The John Gotti, this rap shit, will it kill me? Never

This goes out to cats (stupid), fingers in they ass again

Fifty dollar half-a-men, daydreamin'

Fuck around get wet like semen, your whole team-and

Be Mor-gan than Freeman

I took the cream and, moved to new places new faces

Fuck the screwfaces, 'cause when I flip

I make the papers, dangerous, we Goodfellas

Niggas can’t bang with us, try to do me

My crew be unruly (what)

Some old school cats that call gats toolies

Call blacks moolies, think it’s cool to smoke woolies

And fuck without rubbers (what), specialize

In killin' wives and grandmothers, who ya trustin', shit

When Frank start bustin', Frank start somethin'

Killin' ya gently, God meant me, to push a Bentley

Me and Sean Combs takin' broads home

On the phone with the chip, with these Cristal chicks

'Bout to make our own porno flicks, my life’s the shit…