Текст песни 125 Part 2 (Fresh Air) (Joell Ortiz) с переводом

Yaowa! It’s the boy Joell Ortiz

Yo man, we at a half a brick now!

Y’all know the work is fire

HE COPIED IT from me!

Wake up wake up, the first is here

Mailman hurry up, ain’t no food up in here

We live check to check, the projects steps is wet with piss

Elevator broke, come fix this shit

Mischievous kids steal chips outta the corner store

Find stick, walk through the hood, with a 4-by-4

Eviction letters on your door when your rent late

You riffin like your welfare was supposed to have sent cake

We turn the johnny pump up until the wrench break

It ain’t safe, you walk by and get a drenched face

Every other month you sobbin at a friend’s wake

Lightin candies in front of the buildin with Henn' straight

Chinese food is a gourmet meal

That General Tso’s chicken is always real

Elders call the cops cause the hallways filled

With weed smoke, so when we see Deebo we peel

Deep throat is ill from a true bird

So like two-thirds of the time we climb up to the roof, word

Pebble Beach still alive

You can’t park your car anywhere, for them rims they’ll steal your ride

Your whole vehicle gone by the time you realize

Somebody flossin quite often at the other side of Brooklyn

Raise your hand if you spend a night in the bookings

Bet you I see more arms than Saddam and his Muslims

It’s cocaine cookin in the pot; smell the fumes?

The finished product got the tenants sellin living rooms

Every time they cop, they singing a different tune

The crack got their brain boiling like a chicken stew

Take a hit or two

And watch you go from heavy-set with a job to out of work and invisible

That’s a pitiful visual but this shit is true

To be honest some of my fam on a mission too

We play lotto and hope that we hit our way out

I stopped chasin that dream, my leg gave out

Don’t be mad, UPS is hirin

Tried that, after the first check came retirement

Back hurtin, my situation ain’t that urgent

Felt like I got ran over by a black 'burban

Scenarios like that make me the rap Earvin

Magic Johnson, I’m Barry Bonds when his bat workin

Hit maker, mixtape of the year

Can everybody just take a deep breath? Yes!

I’m fresh air, let’s hear all the nonsense

He’s kind of heavy, he’s gonna be hard to market (what else?)

Plus he’s Latin, is that who he’s gonna target

So I’m big, so is Big, so is Big Pun

And you know like I know that you know that they both get dumb

So just stop it, know my target is everyone

5-foot Mexicans, Africans that’s 7'1″

I can even cater to all the Native Americans

They can dance around my fire until the rain come

I knew it from day one

It took y’all 2,555 days to say I’m a great one?

Seven years I’ve been proven and sheddin tears like I’m through with it

Heard a track, went back and ruined it

This music shit made my first baby moms jet

We was broke, I was workin hard on my project

I tried to tell her this is our way out the project

If I don’t go 100% it won’t be no progress

She looked at me like, «Yeah right, you job-less

Tryin to rap, my bags is packed, see you in August»

I had to eat that, she right, we ain’t had money

But the Pampers was there and my son had a fat tummy

All I ask was a little smile support

What I get? Letters in the mail for child support

But it’s cool, success is near, I can taste it

Now you know all the times we argued was time wasted

I took the hip-hop exam and I aced it

Matter of fact, the board of rap didn’t know how to grade it

I’m so left with it, effortlessly

Y’all’ll be left on the shelf if it was left up to me

Left y’all a while ago, made a left in the V. O

The BQE feel in the water and was left in the sea

Yeah, my flow liquid; too much H2O in it

My system, I ain’t drown, I became a wave and rolled with it

I make it hard for y’all to swim on the track

After I rap, I’m the current that be pushin you back

Givin me dap’s like, puttin your hand up in a hot pot

Did you not know that I’m fire like a pot spot?

If this was hopscotch, you would hop to the next box

I hop to the next park and try to block shots

On the ball court, I’m not of this element

Went to the zoo when I was 3, not for the elephants

Just for the smell of it — I’m a different breed

They should’ve built a cage with a stage and had a Joell in it

My attitude is not celibate, fuck you!

I’ll violate your whole album with a one-two

When I was one, two

I used to take on one, two, three niggas in battles and won too

About one, two, three years ago

I had a 1−2 inch single on Rawkus that won two

I’m the kind of dude you compare no one to

Your engineer’s a boxer, he gotta punch you

I’m one take with it, they did it, not me

They’s the industry, it’s how they got me

Pissed off, like a case of beer to the face

Great taste, less fillin, I ain’t feeling y’all taste

Dude your praise is weak; seven days a week

Same joint on the radio, course they gon' say it’s heat

Y’all use hypnotism, play the same beat

Same rhymes all the time got they brain on repeat

Y’all can hear me once and know that I am him

The second comin of nice, I terrorize the pen

Analyze the gems, disregard the ice movement

I’m talkin to jewels that I use when I write, stupid

When I do it, they gon' stay hatin

Cause I’mma be on top of the game, both feet on my PlayStation

You could try to find a safe haven

But it’s nowhere to run and hide from this undeniable vacation (nah)

Get out the car, I’m in the driver’s seat

The gas tank is full and the ride is sweet

The kind of rank you pull is the kind I eat

The only stripes you’ll earn will remain on your stomach

As the weight loss begins when your income plummets

Send in the news coverage, I will make dudes public

Extra extra, read all about it!

Another artist missin, last seen in an outfit

Had to be desgined by some big name stylist

Any info please don’t be afraid to dial this

718 — y’all motherfuckers ain’t fuckin with me

I’mma violate, I’ll +Violate+ with the likes of 50

You’s a enemy homie if you ain’t ridin with me

Friend or foe, answer the question or I’ll decide it quickly

Feast your eyes on the rookie of the year

The uniform I wear will fit none of my peers

Jump ball is near — GET READY!