Текст песни Pac-Man (Denace) с переводом

Rest in peace Mac Miller

This is for the love of hip hop and battle rap

We gotta keep it alive

Dear Colson, I wrote you but you still haven’t posted

The only time you rocked a Full House was when you were an Olson

But anyways, fuck it man

How’s your little daughter? (how she doin')

Hopefully not getting involved in needles like her drug addicted father (whoops,

oh shit)

I’m on another «plane»

I’m so awoken

You tryna emerge and see, but crash

You’re Sully chokin'

And when I’m home alone bitch

You’re still Macaulay Culkin (KEVIN!!!)

I’ll march with the NRA to have this Machine Gun Kelly broken

Tough little pistol Kelly, shit I’ll fist you so hard 'til I hit your belly

This dude is anorexic, someone get him a sandwich

Mixed with jelly

I’m not even pissed, no really

I’m ballin' like a disco, silly

Those jabs you missed though, Nelly

I’m comin' for your wrist, throat Kelly

Come at me dawg, I’m sick, polio

These hater’s are all liars

Coming out the woodwork like Pinocchio

I hate these mumble rappers

They go «da da da di»

Catch me in a Maserati (skkkrrt)

Or a fucking Bugatti

That I don’t own

I rent, to be somebody

I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)

I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)

Little Yachty, I’ma Jambaddi

OK, I’m getting sidetracked

Back to Kelly, the fake Machiavelli (what's up?)

Bandana around your throat

Just fucking do it

Hang yourself stupid

And Logan Paul will take a pic

Jump off the roof, and finally make a hit

You’re Shady’s bitch, about to get smoked like a Jamaican spliff

This square’ll get chopped up into bacon bits

Ahhh what was I sayin'? shit

Oh yeah

I wanna let people know this

That I’ve noticed

The comments, that I’m a Shady clone

And that I believe that I am him, and I’m with Kim

And I’m delusional…

There’s something you should know

I’m not a lunatic, I just knew this shit

That I used to get

Myself exposure and it worked

I’m on the news and shit

You’re laughing at me, while I’m here laughing at y’all

Talking shit behind the computer, surrounded by walls (you're a tough guy)

And I’m getting paid, probably fuckin' your bitch

That’s why she doesn’t answer your calls

So fuck you, fuck all of y’all

I hate these mumble rappers

They go «da da da di»

Catch me in a Maserati (skkkrrt)

Or a fucking Bugatti

That I don’t own

I rent, to be somebody

I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)

I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)

Little Yachty, I’ma Jambaddi

Marshall is taking too long

Time for the Stans to unite

To stand up and fight

Raising the standards

Like I am in Stanford

For every stanza I’m planning to write (uh)

I can walk on water

But still standoffish

You understanding my lines?

Dismantling mics, with candles to light

This Ouija board we handle tonight (oh shit)

The Rap Devil’s getting baptized

The power of Jesus compels you! (uhhuh)

Sike! If anything needs to be exorcised on this guy it’s a muscle (damn)

Like Bachir’s mum, son

We getting ready to start a Dizaster

I’m wiping away you scum chunks

Like switching a carbon reactor

Y’all ain’t shit but a cum dump

See man, I’m trashing this (w)rapper

But we know this don’t actually matter

This is just the calm before Marshall get’s at ya (again)

Bitch wait, you’re a shit stain

Are you pussies mad at this clickbait?

Fuck it, I’ll stick the tip of my dick into your chick

'Til the clitoris rips into a million bits

And the shit breaks

Yo, who the fuck is that?

I dunno, let me check

«Yo, what up? It’s Kells. Cleveland!»

Yo, throw a beat on

Ok

«Uh, yeah, hand me the clippers

His beard is weird» Clippers?

Uh, yeah. What?

And a black shevel

Shevel? Don’t you mean shovel?

No, I mean shevel, yeah. Ummmm…

Where’s the autotune at? Ok…

Yeah, yeah, I’m sick of them sweatsuits

And those corny hats, let’s talk about it

I’m sick of eating food, and when I see a dude

I just walk around it (Kells, Kells)

I’m sick of being a stick and feeling like shit

But I’m still Kelly

So much seamen inside of my belly

And now I am feeling it swelling

Damn, shut up you hella thin skeleton

You’re just an irrelevant elephant

In the room, soft as watermelon gelatin

Gone off the deep end, like Louise and Thelma did

Looking like an alien, local like a L.A.N

Where is Chris Hansen when we need to catch a man who’s been

Dangling his teeny little weenie

On the 'gram again, no wonder Mashall’s panicking

You’re gonna get hammered in

Switch

Keep screwing around you might be the

Dumbest motherfucker since Justin Bieber

Or Logan Paul when he tried to tweet a

Diss up against Chris D’elia

This over-tatted, bony bastard’s looking like some molten plastics

Thinner than the strings of woven baskets

Hopeless Codeine addicts

Homeless Brad Pitts

Looking like a Nazi who would vote for fascists

Dome on acid, go, go, gadget

Straight into a closing casket

Collecting heads like Sleepy Hollow

Y’all don’t know me but you need to follow

Eminem’s the G.O.A.T. and Kelly is dope

But both will overdose

And not see tomorrow

Damn, that’s a hard pill to swallow

I’m in the car now and I killed the bottle

Tekashi in the trunk

Lil Yachty in the front

And I’m driving drunk

Into the wall, bro (nooo)

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen for listening

Sincerely, Stan

I hate these mumble rappers

They go «da da da di»

Catch me in a Maserati (skkkrrt)

Or a fucking Bugatti

That I don’t own

I rent, to be somebody

I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)

I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)

Little Yachty, I’ma Jambaddi