Текст песни Real Talk (P Money) с переводом

So what if you recorded and mixed down P Money Is Power?

I gave you back all that respect and power

Nobody could rush you

No one could touch you, G, let alone cuss you

I showed you road and girls and buss you

You was a broke-arse can’t afford bus yout

N.E. gave you a PC and then buss you

You’re acting like you done it yourself, fuck you!

No, bro, you are the man that’s worthless

You stole from the roof over your head

And took things from the studio, caught red handed on cam

You were trading for pennies from Cash Converters

Opportunist, you were stealing from Mela

How could you steal from Mela?

In fact, how could you steal from his father?

Put that in your sob story, you ain’t clever

I’ve never been moist, it was probably the wetter

Definitely on sight, and it’s probably forever

You wanna mention mum’s yard, come, darg

I will have a shotty and a mask from V for Vendetta

But you ain’t on that, man, I know you

Shut your mout, I don’t owe you

You worked for the guy that was putting out my CD

That’s why the studio time was free

Shut your mout, I don’t owe you

And you can come with a punchline verse

Nothing surprises me when you write for me

'Cause I can hear what I taught you

Stormer was there when I showed you what punchlines were

And Little Dee taught you about multiple rhyming

Like you said in your Fire in the Booth

All you had was beats and shit bars

I mean how else did you think you got this hard?

Wait, we know how you got this hard

Cos you’re only half a writer

Let’s see what your fans are gonna think when

You finally admit that you use Master Writer

For those who don’t know, that’s a program on Windows

You use, when you type in a word

And it comes up with every other word that rhymes

What if I told you he was doing that way before '09?

How dare they compare you and I

I got money and I put on for grime

You got signed, fixed your teeth, put on a suit

And started singing about suicide (Overload)

Years later, talking about breddahs have been blocking you

No one ain’t scared, pop was stopping you

You buried yourself, that’s why you’re a rotten yout

But you tried to block me though

Man tried to stop me eating

Had me, Tom and Geeneus in a meeting

Man said Dot’s managers are demanding

I be taking off shows, I couldn’t believe him

I was like «Oh my God»

Instead of being a man and turning up to perform songs

You tried performing a gastric bypass

Don’t know why you’re flexing on my cards

Ringing up Vex cos you were scared of my dargs

Whole game failed you on the test that I passed

That’s when banging you up became my task

Send your shots, my shield’s better than a riot guard

I smell a pussyhole in need of some RightGuard

Ran out of Stockwell, ran out of OGz

Ran out of Nando’s, ran out of Hoodstars

Dunno what you done to your mum

But not even Bart was run out by his marj

How are you talking like you got darked?

You played with a short fuse, got sparked

Fuck your drive, press P and get parked

Everybody’s saying it’s gonna be historical

The absent father of grime

Everybody knows the biological father is always diabolical

I don’t have to but you I wanna school

SoundCloud yours, I’ll Spotify mine

You wanted to but you can’t sell lies

No bashment in sight when I turn up at yards

It’s guns, money and ammunition, it’s all cartel vibes

When I know where he lives and I roll through the bits

Lights off, blacked out, nine guys, four straps

Full clips, in the boot man’s got another six

I’ll let one of your fans work out the total eclipse

Remember how you met Shivs?

You were 19, a virgin and shit

No game, man had me writing his MySpace messages

Man was all nervous and shit

Then later on, man done a diss

How’s man doing a whole dub for Shivs?

Calling her a hoe when you wifey’d

Don’t lie, you wouldn’t have done it otherwise G, yeah

Feelings, blatantly wifey

Man’s really getting a kick out of calling her a sket

I was like hold on a sec

Doesn’t that mean you just wifey’d a sket?

Which one you gonna wifey next?

I ain’t even mentioned your ex… yet

But I’ll tell you about that girl you’re with now

When it comes to the girls, bro, your life’s vex

'Cause you’ve gone and wifey’d Lusardi Rose

Name says it all 'cause everyone knows

She was beating man that you might call bro

Your closers are thinking «Woah, this is peak»

Her Snapchat’s got too many streaks

Brudda, this ting’s run through HeavyTrackerz' studio

Way more than me

Left with no tunes, no singing

No mix downs, just beats, no riddims

Innocent, pssh, who the hell is she kidding?

Did man really think that I wouldn’t spin him?

Your Fire in the Booth had me grinning

Fuck Minarmy, I’ll spin armies in eight bars

My Gs could be Muslim, when I tell 'em it’s beef, they break fast

This MAC-10 will turn a mansion into a graveyard

'Cause my man’s a prick

Diss my son and get blasted with what’s in the palm

Do not mention the Iron Man’s kid

I’ll address man here when I do it over my man’s wig

I don’t care who my man’s with

Deaf sound, my ting’s loud

When I give him this smoke, man better learn sign language

Rasta mode when I get nicked

Let my bredrins go, it’s all what I and I did

Snake in the grass, you’re fake

Everybody on my team eats when it’s my banquet

About school me, are you stupid? They don’t wanna book me when I’m on my maths

shit

I’ve got a shot that will take away man’s eyesight

Plus a blade to divide mans ribs

Sounds like a seven a side, when you hit the news

They’ll be like «that was my man’s pitch»

Call man fat all you want, when I banged you in the face

Your left cheek said «My man’s quick!»

Leg said «Woah, did you see what my man did?»

When I fucked up my man’s shit

Come with them shit bars about fatso

The thing is when I was as skinny as you

I still weren’t getting smacked up by fat blokes

Trust me

Nobody’s G checking me bro and not you

I don’t care who’s around you, you’re talking about olders

You’re 29, shut your mout

How you got olders at 29?

Upset? Aaw you and Blacks, bruv, 'llow it bruv

You diss a crew, prepare to beef a crew. that’s what happens

You’re on your Snapchat and your Twitter talking about ah mans doing all this

'cause mans hating on you

Mans ne- why would man hate on you?

My career compared to yours is mad

Your peak is pop

I’ve been doing grime

There’s bare stuff I still ain’t said you’ve been doing

This is why this has happened, I smacked you up

'Cause you’re a violater, you are a pagan

And now you wanna do lyrics but in your lyrics you’re now talking bout road

Make up your mind

Check my dub compared to your dub bro

I’m stating nothing but facts and violations of how much you are a pagan

All you’re doing is talking about what you think you would do to me and wanna

do to me and rumours that ain’t true, bro

It’s air

I’m stating real life facts, that people around you know and will back up

And will actually say «Nah, but Dot you did that» «Nah but he’s got a point»

That’s why you ain’t winning this

'Llow it