Текст песни 120 Bars Deep (Ese 40'z) с переводом

I grab the mic ripping through hitting notes on every cord

flaming blunts and drinking brew double edging on my sword

I be the one with tunnel vision insomniac livin

funneling decisions through a forty keeps me driven

to a gang life style Chuck T’s with the Ben D’s

white Cortez and I fat lace my Nikees

chillin like a villian, psycho cerebellum

stairin at the ceiling catch these flows while I spell em

E-S-E 4−0 then apostrophe

thowin up the S oh yes so it’s gotta be

the E-S-E 40 ounce with a wicked flow

we stress free T-town when I hit the dro

slow my heart rate but I be quick on the reflex

got no time for half bred parvo lookin rejects

Shaolin beat that I’m wreckin for the street

with the world in one hand and the other’s packin heat

the fundamental triple B got the bud, brew, and bitches

razor blade mentally a buck fifty with the stitches

on the face of the rap game drop another track flame

burning through the airwaves rock solid crack slang

sendin truth into lyrics steady slaughterin a metaphor

Hate Proof my spirit with a project yall ain’t ready for

hittin switches through these rhymes like I’m dippin in a low low

sick and twisted minds jumpin lines like a pogo

stick to the muthafuckin realest on my mental notes

kickin ghetto lyrics on the illest instrumental flows

straight from the block with the poverty and grime

penitentiary cages on the robbery of time

no rewind on my clock so I’m shootin towards the future

early in the morning with cocaine as my rooster

to wake me up and sound off scoop another mound off

lace it in a blunt sticky skunk to make a clown cough

pisto in my ice tea haters lookin shiesty

sack chasin bitches on the creep actin feisty

dip through the streets with my bald headed felons

razor to the skin then hit the wind with my pelons

off in the streets well I really mean the beast

belly of a fuckin demon meth addicted ain’t no peace

in my area 5−0-5 was original

so I never switched it up the numbers for this criminal

I come gunnin with these verses show you where the dirt is

deep in the slums with the clowns at the circus

take you through the zoo where they got every type of animal

tokin on glass pipes tweekin up on mechanical appliances

reconfigure what the science is

once enemies and now they smokin like alliances

slicin through your speakers cut shit up like a Samurai

projectile style cock it back and let the hammer fly

fuck a punk snitch nine double one dialin

when they see the trouble run world’s smallest violin

playing in the background when they plea bargainin

weed’s getting hacked down time to do the gardenin

(Ese 40'z — Verse Two)

Connectin rhymes with a quickness vocabulary fitness

infiltrate the structure and infect em with the sickness

crease my Friscoes FB with two pistols

holstered on my waist Chuck T’s laced the list goes

on and on and on while I’m starin through my loccs

bandana hangin down from my back pocket hope

that I see another day through the thick of my conflicts

and not another chain gang trip with the convicts

dreamin big with the raps as I fascinate what fame tells

tilt the forty back and go assassinate my brain cells

cloudy premonitions in my mind about the outcome

rowdy drunken missions on the grind talkin bout some

bitches for the night wreckin hoes and I’m killin this

riches that I write weapon flow psycho villainous

cuz I’m the lyrical drinkin hundred proof let my spirits flow

six percocets and an eighth of the miracle

mystical medical marijuana let it glow

when I spark this in the darkness flashin up the catchable

flame out the lighta, reign the empire

in the rap game with the fame I desire

and this is my dream while I’m driftin through the slums

trailer parks and project porches dirty money, drugs, and guns

till opportunity approaches killin off the roaches

feds throwin raids takin orders from their coaches

but fuck the jura cuz we gotta stay trucha

labs in my town cookin batches of the bruja

pushin out through the calles what be the epidemic?

glass plague in the valle, oil burner as the gimmick

skeleton trend setta cock that Beretta

cold in these streets better grab ya self a sweata

better yet a jacket they frozen off the sack lit

ampin out psychosis thirty dirty hits of smack shit

that be my world when I return to the beast

and chill with the homies in the place where there’s no peace

I’m in the zone with the warriors, South Side Academy

gladiator school we learned assault, rage, and battery

on our opponents life and death moments

gathering the hate that I’ve collected and I’ve known since

I was a little youngsta, thuggin I was once a…

skinny little vato on the calles smokin blunts up

but now I’m 27 years old far from a veteran

triple O.G. with the olde english letterin

a buck twenty bars strong comin out da wood work

ghetto tale song nice and long to make the hood smirk

I keep droppin these lines spitting verses is my nature

last page up on the grind twenty four up on the paper

getting praised for my flows but I don’t need a witness

targets on a wila hard pez up on the hit list

menace to society killin off sobriety

drunk up on the creep about to hit em all so quietly

blitz on the frontline military tactics

shotgun stunt time buck em into back flips

and if you’re rollin through my area it’s desert land subliminal

cinco cero cinco with a drug that be identical

to broken wind shields or hands fulla quartz rock

meth drug deals but I’m the one who still snorts chalk

up in my zone double up like a clone

a beast in the jungle with the strongest pheromone

reppin out the Pecos Valle wanna take this

to another level Eddy County with the make shift

lab tech chemists cookin up the business

bad breath menace always lookin for the finished

product on the line molecular design

blasting fifty units deep into the center of their mind

now the times are finished up on the last of a dying breed

chillin on the block slangin crack people buying weed

on the last note sailing high in a glass boat

be my surroundings drifting by looking past dope…