Текст песни Views from the VII (Von Poe VII) с переводом

«Message said you’d be here. Still, kind of thought it’d be one of your minions

who showed up in the flesh»

— Det. William 'Bunk' Moreland

«You caught up in some of my people’s papers? — Omar Little

Now if I got locked

Would you jack my style

Or try to downplay me

To cash out on the cow

And If I got locked

Would you be there to greet me

Or leave me in a cage

Like them animals on TV (2x)

If we’re being honest

Never needed a cosigner

From these wack ass rhymers

My sperm cells pack a meaner clientele

Than Tony Soprano

I’m Omar with the shotty

In a phony rapper’s lobby

I’m probably bout to catch a body

You on The Wire my nigga

See, you Stringer in the window

I’m Mouzone without the bow tie

If you can’t tell

I’m hungry for this shit

Like it was retail

Bet a million that I’ll body

Your favorite rappers and females

(55 my nigga)

See even Jesus had to die though

And I ain’t really into photos

So don’t ask unless it’s promo

Still mothafuck the coppas

On this block that I’m walkin

The gorilla stomping in darkness

Never one for the barkin

I bring the chaos

Niggas ain’t shit without their crews

Or a pussy’s face when you’re facing em'

Claiming your style ain’t Reaganism, paganism

I’ll push the bacon back in the stable

Swine dining findings

Never the villain or god that I be

Pay attention

You wasn’t sharing the wealth

So now we’re taking it

You don’t know about that struggle

Cause you spend a couple days in it

And I’ll dick slap you PaRappa, The Rappers

And laugh casually

How you carrying the Westcoast

Knowing you ain’t as nice as me

Keeping it thorough

I had to cut some niggas out of my circle

(pause)

That’s what that paranoid will do to you

Who’s iLLer than us

The heat that you’re packing will never bust

I’m never dusty with the raps

I give respect when it’s given back

But never that

So why these suckas hating

On Poetic’s raps

It’s probably cause

Me and my niggas about to bring it back

Or probably cuhz

Them niggas been knowing that they wack

It’s that classic AZ and Nas

Illmatic raps mothafucka

Now if I got locked

Would you jack my style

Or try to downplay me

To cash out on the cow

And If I got locked

Would you be there to greet me

Or leave me in a cage

Like them animals on TV (2x)

At any minute I could flip it on em

A career based on instrumental drops

And catchy punch lines

I’m done talkin

The rain of seven like mathematics

Spit it backwards like White America

White power with Afros

And still wouldn’t change shit

The still will leave you brainless

I’ll still pop the steel

If ever broke to steal your bank with

That alpha and omega

I spit it for the culture

Triple sevens in my paradise

I’m hella nice

I purified holy water in dirty sprite

The Devil’s blessing Trap niggas

The God was never true to them

Food for thought

Was better off anonymous

Painting pictures

My flow schemes

A vivid interpretation of scriptures

You niggas never gon' pop

That money talk

That’s ever corny rapper

On every block

Stop dumbing down my culture

You Kings and Queens

Be selling off your royalties

To the vultures, uh

Oh what, you thought this was a game?

To me, I’ll lace the beat in a coffin box

And tell it to rest in peace

What part of the game ain’t niggas comprehending

That simple science

I’m the Alchemist

And equivalent exchanges

Is my accomplishment

That riverside reppa

All up in your sector

I’ve been gutta with the raps

And I’m steady reaching for the dresser

Got caught up in a stack of wackness

Wrapping up packages

Dip and damaged them

My apologies

I had to switch the plan on them

New beginnings

I never was the type

To handle contracts, so

Them niggas ain’t around

Their loyalty fronted

I hit that reset button

We ever lasting

I’m steady casting off

Recruiting authors

Ayo the Threat is like when Hell was conquered

This is that wordplay villainous

While niggas be grillin

From unlimited distance

Eliminate your style before you had one

I’ll strap cast on

Without the mask on

Then I’ll toss you in a lake to pass on

Before I blast off

The Villain

Now if I got locked

Would you jack my style

Or try to downplay me

To cash out on the cow

And If I got locked

Would you be there to greet me

Or leave me in a cage

Like them animals on TV (2x)

Outro:

«I'm just working, doing what a man’s suppose to do» — Det. William 'Bunk'

Moreland

«Oh I know you’ve been busy. Caught some talk from them men you roughed up,

over on the Westide» — Omar Little

«All this death, you don’t think it ripples out? You don’t even know what the

fuck I’m talking about. I was a few years ahead of you at Edmondson,

but I know you remember the neighborhood, how it was. We had some bad boys,

for real. Wasn’t about guns so much as knowing what to do with your hands.

Those boys could really rack. My father had me on the straight,

but like any young man, I wanted to be hard too, so I’d turn up at all the

house parties where the tough boys hung. Shit, they knew I wasn’t one of them.

Them hard cases would come up to me and say, „Go home, schoolboy,

you don’t belong here.“ Didn’t realize at the time what they were doing for me.

As rough as that neighborhood could be, we had us a community. Nobody,

no victim, who didn’t matter. And now all we got is bodies, and predatory

motherfuckers like you. And out where that girl fell, I saw kids acting like

Omar, calling you by name, glorifying your ass. Makes me sick, motherfucker,

how far we done fell» — Det. William 'Bunk' Moreland