Текст песни The Battle (Lady Sovereign) с переводом

-Frost P!

-Zuz

-SOV, Lady Sovereign

-Shystie!

Yo, Medasyn star

Plus the prodigal son, Zuz Roc

You know how we do, Yo

See, I’m a man who only chats realness

F**K being like most dese kids who chat sh*t

S*ck record company dick

Frost P, I keep it gutter

Still bills I’m payin', still for meals I’m prayin'

In the meanwhile, I stayed me and wait

De life ain’t great

But it’s better than the jobs from state

For makin' it, mate, just a Q. and A

Still ghetto with de mind of a needle

Quicker than a cheetah

Draw nine millimeter up

Grab a man’s chain

If I get shifty, never in vain

Ain’t life, but I stay in de game

Yeah, the prodicial’s the same

«Ain't we all a little? "

Frame my brain to the game

N*gga blow the whistle (tweet)

Same issue, I move like a video on jerk

Steady, walk forward in my Timberland boots

And I still ready to shoot, you need proof?

Show it any time

F*ck a label, I never get signed!

More time, N*ggas wanna leave me behind

Tell me to put my name on de dotted line

Ya find, the way I am contracts to de street

Come around, will you?

In the last two weeks, you’re too weak

I still represent Hayestown

Though it’s my proximity, my boy face-down

Murder mans, N*ggas fast like a greyhound

Quick to run in the bank and tell ya lay down

Down to the manner, got a place in the manor

Like a .38, always come back to the man-ner

That’s grammar

Use it punk, big like de clumps

You versus me equals my car trunk

Lissen up — Zuz, Frost P, eyes frosty

Dat Meda camp, kills MCs softly, like Lauren

We buy shots from foreign

And you don’t wanna f*ck wiv my side, fool

Yo, this is Shystie…

Yeah, SOV, Lady Sovereign, and what Shystie

Let’s take dese' boys out, yah?

I’m on it, boy-eh… Let’s battle…

Show dese guys what we’re worth, rude boy

'Cause I know, see, I can spit…

Let’s show dem

Yo, dere’s sumffin, I got one bad habit

When those streets step to me, I won’t have it

'Specially people like you and you…

Dat’s okay, now when I come through

Time after time, like Cyndi Lauper

Remember de time when you got slaughtered

Beef? Course not, it’s just an argument

Words they is jerkin' in de House of Parliament

Wid' out your words, spit out your verbs

Knuckle boy boxen' on de corner of de curb

People, lift dem up before dey get hurt

But their heart rate stop (beeep)

When they have just learned

Dat, I’m above de flow

Leave your mind in de hollow

Like your de centre of Apollo, push

Can’t enter his side when I’m solo

Yah, yeh don’t know, so —

None a yer words can hurt me, fool

None a yer combacks mean f**k 'ou

Nuffin' you say can hurt me, fool

I feel bad, pity fool ya rude

I can sense

That yer ish-ing to dis dis

Where yer car? harhar! A domestic life

Devil promotion of sickness

I’ll spit this… Anyone listenin' is a witness

Helpless lady — I ain’t not written dis

Let’s get on with de quick busi-ness

S.O.V. that dot lyricist can they touch dis?

— No

Hup-two-three-four, I’m goin' to war

To win, I leave leave the runner-up sore. (ow!)

I’m raw, like uncooked meat

That’s why I’m in de hole… Da white flag

I’m a tree… I’m deep

But my face looks sweet!

Sweet enough to fool yeh 'bout my greed

Yo, Now-now-now, Waltz it to where de daemons sleep

Yeah, now creep!

Yo, lissen up to Sovereign and me, Shystie!

The Meda camp’s deep, and they never stopped we

Spittin' lyrics in your face, you can’t keep up de pace

So, you don’t wanna f*ck wiv our side, fool!

Ha! So, let’s show dese boys what time it is

I’m showin' you

Dey don’t know about how us gurrls spit, yeh

Let’s show dem how we keep it real

Let’s show dem what de deal is

Let’s show dem what time it is

It’s Shystie! Let’s go!

Oi! 'ey, lissen up

Don’t get f*cked up, I got Fu' PMS

My mood swings leave N*ggas in a state of

Distress

I’m the lyrical Shakespeare thou shall never test

Thou shall spit a battle forth to rattle a man’s chest

I corner N*ggas in angles, as if dere was a circle

Yeah! — Get paid, but I know my lyrics hurt you

I take you for a joke, so you get laffed at (haha)

Cause yer a basic MC, boy. I’m done — past dat

Cause' my microphone leaves sound boys on da silence

Leaves? Yeh, suddenly need stabilizers

Yeah, wanted to battle me like an idiot

But I’ll show everyone (sure!) here dat' there not

Ready yet

I’ll leave you body wrapped, body bagged, in a closed hearse

Leff it in de church, can it really get worse?

Cannot rilly, know dat I jest, silly, can’t see me

But I’m still here, 'cause I move like the wind

I’m goin' to make havoc — Spit till I choke

How could anyone want to battle me for a joke

See de tick-tock? On de body clock, I put it on stop

If you wanna come and drop a lyric, there is no topic

But if you had it, you still couldn’t rhyme

You still couldn’t write in beat to dis time

So you never get close enough to me to attack

You take two steps forward, but three steps back

'Cause I’m daily separatin' mens, day after day

Leaving them with no self-esteem, meditating

Don’t think of it, Unless it’s how I make you lose your confidence

Even how you spittin' on dis track is never-never land

Your sh*t

You can’t spit and it’s better dat you quit

Leave it to Shystie, that spits hot toxic

But — you member how we’s doin' all?

Yeah! right! hah hah!

Yo, lissen up to Sovereign and me, Shystie!

The Meda camp’s deep, and they never stopped we

Spittin' lyrics in your face, you can’t keep up de pace

So you don’t wanna f*ck wiv our side, fool!

Yo! This is it! heh hah haa!

The beef’s kickin' off now! (s'fun now)

Frost P! Bruce Grove N17. Z-U!

Let’s take down these Duckbirds. (nice)

Yo, I used both of dese girls mouth

Like pick-up sex in a condom de beef is on

And your Miss Dynamite

Impressions ain’t botherin' no one

So thanks but nah. Get yer own slogan!

Take that! Matter of fact, get off de track

I’m too classy to go back-to-back

Wiv your average hood-rats

What you know about markin' yer game

Up yer walls? Nuffin

Spittin crap at yer sympathizers. (nuffin!)

Treat ya frauds like Kit-Kat

— «Give 'em a break! «Cause yer unknown and fake

Cause yer bound to hate

Dey wanna beee like us! (I know)

But they’re featherweight

And I’m a heavyweight

Eatin' MCs like ready-break

If that’s the case, imagine when the skets' get slapped

Quick and exit

And home it crept. Must be men!

Wish you had the balls to step, attempt to a rep

But you get blazed off de set

Trust if you be Sovereign, I’m Benson and Hedges

Don’t to trust you to get me anesthetics

Even wif Gab’s compressor, ya still sound lesser

So don’t get it twisted, girls — you ain’t better

Man, I take down your whole 'hood wiv my four wood

You hear de way I flow, and you really wish you could

Never dat! Too many rhymes, too many lines

For dead amateurs like you, I ain’t got de time

Lissen up — Zuz, Frost P, eyes frosty

Dat Meda camp, kills MCs softly, like Lauren

We buy shots from foreign

And you don’t wanna f*ck wiv my side, fool

Heh heh

Yeah, dese gurls can’t be serious!

Frost, are these gurls serious, man?

They better f*kin' recognize what time it is

Before we clean their clocks

R-O-C? — Yep

I spit sick rhymes, my styles

Better den yours, times ten

I rhyme couple time, I punish your assembly line

You could never take Zuz for a spin

Dese b*tches ain’t better

I’m tougher dan eva

My vendetta is simply payback

Write lyrics wiv no pen, no paper

Hate-ers never prosper. (yep)

So get lost like change down the sofa

Garage doesn’t matter to me

'Cause if Shystie is on battlin' me

She’s ready to see, R.O. is old school

Like bullet-hole jeans

— p*ssy goes squeeze when de bullet goes in

I used to shop work till I get a gold fing

For sure, I’m talkin', my fro’s clean

Yo, my fro’s clean, just like the Pope’s sheets

Better listen up when R.O. speaks

So all of my worrds are hurrrtin' you

And yer both damn, sound like dudes

Why would not you got a better fing to do?

Easily kill you hoes, I won’t lose. ZU-ZU!

In the MC game, I put a lame MC to shame

You’ve only got yourself to blame

Tame your voice when you talk big, my sh*t is real

I kill your little kids like mornin'-after pills

— So chill

When you walk in, I met ends, it’s not happenin'

I still strappin' my nine, I still rappin part time

Lemme up, I take ye back de old ways

Yeah don’t wanna see me take it back to old days —

I favored Frost P like a maniac. (he's great)

'Cause I’m back, I show you where the f**ks izzat

I’m still one of a kind, win de war wiv me?

Killed twenty-two (22.) MC’s

Dem wanna make it twenty-three (23!)

Lissen up — Zuz, Frost P, eyes frosty

Dat Meda camp, kills MCs softly, like Lauren

We buy shots from foreign

And you don’t wanna f*ck wiv my side, fool

I’ll slew you, hands tied behind my flesh

No lies, I will even close my eyes

Turn aroun', with my back-face

In yer face, switch place

Spit my lyrics in yer face like mace

Yo, the riddles I scribble, can make a once upon a time

Fool, who will sell it like drizzle

Uh-huh

I be de midget in de middle

But uh, right about now…

But, can you do a little?

Rose, never stoppin'

I called de rolls, twenty years old

I still hop on the bus with a child bus pass

We ain’t stoppin' for queues, we just rush past

Educated, but yep, I still bunk class!

See, I’m renegade. Roll with de R.O.C.,

Plus, we fully stocked with' de nine milli

'Cause we hotter than the Sahara desert

Afta banned and a filly

I thug jacked Pokemon cards from kiddies

A lotta people know Shystie de renegade

I keep gasses out de bottle, but I stock lemonade

So — don’t get it twisted, 'cause I’m not Shy

Give a bad look, get a right hook in yer eye!

F*ck dat man, I pull scares like anthrax

Leave a boy lookin — zip his lips with Tampax!

With my accent, jack all de lime off de track

Make a used door sound like «Oh dear, Maxwell»

Still —

Huffing and puffing and bluffing

And not on a double to nuttin'

I doubled up when I f**kin' yer girlfriend

Double the trouble, when I doubled de barrel

R.O. dubbed it, so you won’t be into Lauren

Yeah don’t wanna look in my eye, fool!

My lyrics see people dat cry, fool!

You’ll see black and white

Like a black tie ball, so —

YOU DON’T WANNA F*CK WIV MY SIDE, FOOL