Текст песни Remember The Titans (Joe Budden) с переводом

Yeah, yeah

These niggas losing their minds, you find that there’s no reward

They say they already home, it’s really clear they abroad

They sound like they boxed in, it’s not just where they record

There’s a cost to be a boss they can’t clearly afford

Swear to the Lord, there’s guns like a audience

You put on a show, my .40 clearly applauds

Sitting fifth row, I might appear to be bored

Plotting on a Kanye, but screaming, «Where's my award?»

Balling out of control, never won an ESPY

'Bout to buy a black ghost and name that shit SP

Flow outta this world, I’m coming for my Moon Man

You niggas slide back like that walking on the moon dance

No glitter glean, handgun with a beam

Have some boys follow you, Street Fam, Twitter team

Like you could fuck with me, oh did it seem?

Dr. King and Def Jam ain’t the only ones with a dream

I’m a grown ass man, this kid a teen

You’re a spoof of me like if hip hop did a Scream

Audi coupe looking good so I went and copped it

Got that TT popping like a trending topic

My ride’s matte black, my pride is that jacked

It might get ya dog shot, even a cat smacked

Anyway though, styles don’t apply to me

Jeff Goldblum couldn’t be more fly than me

Shorty say, «Right after the suck, fuck, poof»

You hit it on the head girl, duck duck goose

You shoulda got the message that I chuck up deuce

Break 'em off and leave it, you seen my fucked up tooth

It’s fuck a bitch, it’s more fish in the aquarium

I rarely hear no, like when niggas ask you to marry them

There’s no lights in the place you buy your jewelry from

Funeral Fab, I’m just here to bury them

Reporting live from the Beacon, booth tired from the beating

Had foreplay all day, prepping the beat and the mic for a threesome

With my vocal bi-coastal, speeding 'til the ride’s totaled

Mr. Wi-Fi, out a franchise go to magic, standby local’s

Watch the track bust once I show my dick size to the Pro-Tools

I teach you how to have models screaming, «Get behind me»

E-pills and Maybachs ain’t gon' matter if your tip is tiny

Never mind me, we could get knee deep in the beef

Seek me with the heat but you’ll need more to keep me on a leash

Here’s a CC for the peeps that wanna see me in the streets

Invest in Rockports and be easy on your feet

Give a few hammers, a few semi’s and a few snubs

To a few Crips, couple vampires and true Bloods

Gambling in casinos, have a honey handing me my c-notes

The modern day Gambino, I’m careful every step I take

You the nigga walk up in a shootout with some pepper spray

That’d be the last mistake you ever made

Me, I chop his head off from a rooftop

And race it downstairs just to see if I can catch his fade

Like groceries when I’m shooting at fags

Make sure the bread’s separated and put the fruits in a bag

Withstand the hatred, dudes is fallin off doin all they can to save it

But everybody’s run stops, ask Brandon Jacobs

What y’all call swag to me is all faggotry

Fours want blast at me, that’d equal more casualties

Abort the strategy or get attacked with that Duracell

They put in your back, now that’s assault and battery

You can keep the bitching to yourself

There’s beams on every burner, these lasers, a petition wouldn’t help

What good is having shooters if they the type that miss?

Where I’m from, better be careful where you drive that whip

Niggas put they life at risk for pies they flip

In my town, Ben Affleck wouldn’t try that shit

And if he did he’d get turned around, burnt down

Tell the new jacks it’ll be a while 'fore they eligible to earn the crown

Acid out the baggie, this is more than dope, flawless flow

Fucking off a sign every horoscope done wore my robes

Strapping up the corner cold, critical

Unquestioned, my opponents know

I shoot like Kapono, watch me own the show

Comatose, toasted, getting money while I roam the coast

Stones and boats, mansion homes and hoes

I deserve ‘em both, overdose

Time to earn my votes, watch me turn the volts

Voltage through a meter, this electric chair, danger

Yeah, I see ya, now make way 'fore it turn to diarrhea

Hear a microphone will give you 3 of everything I wear yeah

Models by the pair, swear, bottles, private Lear, steer

Style that’s outta here, rare, thousands by the chair, square

Sleep with me, you came here, war with me is scary

Get beat silly trying to lamp here, better bring your fury heat

I got a drop damp here, niggas try me barely

No one breathes, I need an ant’s ear, pressure’s necessary

Got my mind on the cheddar, kill my haters together

Bury 'em in abundance and starve their families stomach’s

Paper come in my thumbage, brand new fifties and hundreds

On point, just like the drum is, I’m warning them baby mothers

Got the hunger of a broke rapper

Kill you while I’m rolling up then smoke after

Catch you at your show, snatch ya, empty out the dough faster

Bentley off the scene, magnum Mo' splasher, four packer

Southside nigga spitting coke at ya!

Nickel! This is for the fronters and the naysayers

I’m about to scare away the drummers and the bass players

They say I’m out of my league on this one, so when I get done

I want you to cut your fuckin' ears off and Twitpic ‘em!

Lord, I want you to leave this vicinity

You gon' be around here 'bout long as Justin Bieber’s virginity

This is Jesus identity, mixed with weed, Hennessy, Kennedy, King

Mixed with a kill or be killed killer regime, illest you seen, switch

Y’all write all that hard shit then you fall right off, it’s horrible

My oracle is all I offer, so before I borrow your

'Won't be here tomorrow' flow, sorry, I will prob’y

Adiós my body wit' somebody toast, this shit just practice

Sickest rapping Baptist, kill your pastor

Steal your Chapstick, after that make you kiss a cactus

Then take your ho, make the ho give the whole clique fellatio

Everyone, that wasn’t the whole entourage on HBO

Then after that, I tell her, «I can’t do much with you, shawty!

I just found out I could fly to Dubai and hire Buffie the Body!»

Don’t call us if the bitches ain’t flawless

If they are then we can hang like Aretha Franklin bra-less

The drunk me can box like a sober you

The sober me be more nervous than Waka Flocka in the voting booth

We beef like being deep and dumping K’s

You beef like Lady Gaga and her stylist

Y’all get together to look good in front of a bunch of gays

My feng shui is a pump in the desert

You’ll come up shorter than an Asian jumping out of a trunk in the desert

While my wolfpack looks for strippers and cocaine

Niggas snitching, it’s a shame, we call 'em male tattlers

Fiends touching they noses more than URL battlers

It’s hard to spit saliva when you spit fire, so I’ll just

Pour sugar in your gas tank, put a banana in your tailpipe

Ah ha, so the car can fit the driver