Текст песни Illusions of Gangsta (Damone Tyrell) с переводом

Say my nigga

While you out here playing, we out here hanging, slanging, banging

While most of my niggas in cages, making minimum wages

You out chere rapping on stages, (dawg)

That rap shit ain’t nothing like this trap shit

Check my street degree, I done mastered it

Gangsta shit, 808 heavy shit

You know what we talking 'bout

Look

King of the block, Boyega couldn’t attack it

Rolling with the A-Team

My status B. A. Baracus

I’ve been working on my takeover

Old heads, your day’s over

It’s the return of the Mack

Like back to back and back makeovers

Posting with my clan all these faking niggas know what’s up

Tell 'em prove they worth

'Cause motherfuckers never showing enough

Holding all these keys, every single door should open up

Niggas got the drive, we whip our own, nobody chauffeured us

Disrespect my peoples

You gone have learn the hard way!

Remember as youngin', I was trapping out in broad day

Pull up on a coward, hallows sing like we on Broadway

Niggas out here bitchin' saying everything the broads say

Barrel on your tongue, I ask a nigga how the burner taste

They gone need forensic DNA to recognize your face

I can’t see a different way for niggas who get in the way

Gimme all the goodies and the combination to the safe

Street corner, I might fuck around

And have to put my heat on ya

We’ve putting those to bed, that used to sleep on us

Ain’t no beauty in the streets, we going beast on ya

On the street corner, nigga on the street corner

We not throwing up no deuces, put that piece on ya

Block is hot, curb looking like a seat warmer

Kicking doors hoping that we find some keys on ya

On my street corner

Nigga you a… you a

You a bad motherfucker

You a… you a

You a bad motherfucker

You a… you a

You a bad motherfucker

You a… you a

You a bad motherfucker

You a… you a

You a real fucking gangster on a triple OG, triple OG on em

Triple OG, triple OG on em

You a… you a

You’ll be flossing on the street corner

I might fuck around

And have to put my heat on ya

We’ve putting those to bed, that used to sleep on us

Ain’t no beauty in the streets, we going beast on ya

On the street corner, nigga on the street corner

We not throwing up no deuces, put that piece on ya

Block is hot, curb looking like a seat warmer

Kicking doors hoping that we find some keys on ya

On my street corner

Nigga…

Make mistakes and I’m coming straight for your place

I got frosting all on my face

I got hungry and took the cake

Niggas scared of me

You shaking like a stripper tightened up

Your life is looking rather dark skin

No chance to lighten up

I’m 'bout that life

Awake from demons that be try to keep me up at night

Souls from my enemies

The Grim Reaper sent for me

Ain’t no getting out its either hell of penitentiary

I remain a trill nigga and my only memory’s the…

Street corner, I might fuck around

And have to put my heat on ya

We’ve putting those to bed, that used to sleep on us

Ain’t no beauty in the streets, we going beast on ya

On the street corner, nigga on the street corner

We not throwing not no deuces, put that piece on ya

Block is hot, curb looking like a seat warmer

Kicking doors hoping that we find some keys on ya

On my street corner

Nigga you a… you a

You a bad motherfucker

You a… you a

You a bad motherfucker

You a… you a

You a bad motherfucker

You a… you a

You a bad motherfucker

You a… you a

You a real fucking gangster on a triple OG, triple OG on em

Triple OG, triple OG on em, triple OG

You a… you a

You’ll be flossing on the street corner

(Beat change)

I’m lying about my loot

Perpetuating stereotypes

Of lost and broken youth

I barely can leave my building while you flossing in the coupe

Yelling at a crack addict that’s almost on his last tooth

I’m educated, but you never graduated

You constantly fucking bitches

I’m over here masturbating

I’m making more enemies than friends as I pretend to be your kin

I fall into these false assumptions that they make based off my skin

Color deep inside the lines as I recite these Biggie lyrics

You wake up with yo strap, put on an attitude that’s fearless

I always meant to ask, is that attitude a mask?

Do you need a punching bag just because the world can’t grasp an understanding

of your upbringing?

You had a dream like Dr. King, but now your gun slinging

Ghetto Clint Eastwood, receive knowledge

Bullets you won’t never need a vest and do your best to share 'em in your hood,

the Wild Wild West

For fear that you get shot down

I claimed dominion of the niggas on your block now

That there is my crew

I had this sick obsession with the way you seem to move

Popping caps, putting fear in all the older kids in school

I was a square, but I always wanted your circle’s circumference

I never held a Mac, shit I was to pussy to touch it

Never knew what I was seeing through these ignorant eyes

You can be more than a thug, don’t let them feed you them lies

Yeah, I never knew what I was seeing through these ignorant eyes

I can be more than a thug, don’t let them feed me them lies

Yeah, I never knew what I was seeing through these ignorant eyes

I can be more than a thug, don’t let them feed me them lies