Origineel
Godzilla bankroll, stones from Sierra Leone
Yo I ain’t got it all, that means I barely home
Trailblazer stay ballin, revenge is my arts
Is crafty darts, while y’all stuck on Laffy Taffy
Wonderin’ how did y’all niggaz get past me
I been doin this before Nas dropped the Nasty
My wallos I did ‘em up, them bricks I send ‘em up
My raps y’all bit ‘em up, for that now stick ‘em up
Ten Four good buddy Tone got is money up
Worth millions still back your bitch lookin bummy what
Ya’ll staring at the angel of death
Liar liar pants on fire You burning up like David Koresh
This is architect music, verbal street opera
pop a ’tec man fully got the projects booming indeed
I ran through the tunnel, Terrorize speed
That’s when I was still in the jungle slangin that D
I’mma go hard on ya’ll niggas
Dart ya’ll niggas out, dropping science
To let ya’ll know what the kid about
I hang like the disco ball, on the floor
I’m like John Travolta, suede blazing with my chest showing
Rings and them hard jeans, please, I’m comfy in the spot
So I’m never handcuffing my queen
It’s a Theodore movement, glock holding kids
With the chocolate boomers, aiyo fuck those rumors
Leave your chick around me, I’ll get those bloomers
Bang that like Desi Arness, with the cowskin cougars
Keep staring down the eyes of the champ, anywhere in this rap shit
Punk muthafucka, I get you blamped, word life, my throat is high
See RiggaTone with the velvet mask on
Cleaning his glass arm…
Who want to battle the Don?
I’m James Bond in the Octagon with two razors
Bet cha’all didn’t know I had a fake arm
I lost it, wild and raw before rap, I was gettin’ it on
Took a fat nigga out in like 40secs
My gun get hard wit a 45 still erects and eagle on
Kangol hat slanted coconut bounce to Morocco
Guerilla medallions like Flavor Flav clock yo
Niggaz want me dead but they scared to step to me
Rip they guts out like a hysterectomy
When beef collide look on the flip by the penitentiary kite
Or get you bumped off from the inside
Jaws is hanging
Frauds is leftin they draws on the floor complaining
Bird ass nigga resemble Keenon Ivory Wayans
Stay in your place dirt born rappers get Shadow box for training
Ya’ll still eatin bacon
Yeah nigga, that’s right
You know you messing with a dart master right now, yo
Yo, I’ve done walked on fire (fire), never got burnt (burnt)
Slept on glass (glass), never got cut (cut)
And broke a few nose bones, yo, light off a round or two
At certain dudes where they dropped they phones
Yo this straight crack (yeah), even my hand got tooken to jail
For writing murder, my wrist couldn’t take it in bail
They left my fingers for dead, told ‘em
“I ain’t have nothing to do with the writing”
I hold you down when you be squeezing that lead
Shopping sprees, with my mans on the corner watch D’s
Rolling in threes, in them purple capri’s’
A gritty bop, my watch is bigger, wallo’s with the gold tassels
Your old slave, with Starkey Love on the shackle
And I stay fly underwater, my toes is iced out
Poofed the nails off, ya faggots can figure the price out
It’s chump change, ya’ll bitch niggas go get my coco
Get my slippers, before I go gun ho!
I like the deuce of diamonds cutting spades on a glass table
Half a mil on my left ankle
Terry cloth Guess shorts robes is comfortable
Bring me a nice bitch that means I’ll fuck with you
My swagger is Mick Jagger, ‘stones’ is ‘rolling’
Prestige is cut to it tea spark when weed went up
The Cocoa leaf is slightly damp
Sprouting in the backyard next to Gran duke tomato plants
And jets get charted marquee shit with the cars on it
They head and they earl to the toilet and vomit
Back East summer MC king since Cuban
Pretty Tone Iron Man and Bulletproof and Supreme
Cuffi on, double deuce in the jeans
My man shape was on the floor with the mother load both of them green
IBF WBC Cruiserweight title shots and Rap belts belong to D.C.
Vertaling
Godzilla bankroll, stenen uit Sierra Leone
Yo, ik heb het niet allemaal, dat betekent dat ik nauwelijks thuis ben
Trailblazer stay ballin, revenge is my arts
Is ambachtelijke darts, terwijl jullie allemaal vastzitten op Laffy Taffy
Ik vraag me af hoe jullie negers me voorbij zijn gekomen.
Ik deed dit al voordat Nas de Nasty dropte
My wallos I did ‘em up, them bricks I send ‘em up
Mijn raps, jullie hebben ze allemaal opgebeten.
Ten Four good buddy Tone got is money up
Miljoenen waard nog steeds je bitch lookin bummy wat
Jullie staren naar de engel des doods
Leugenaar leugenaar broek in brand Je brandt als David Koresh
Dit is architect muziek, verbale straat opera
pop a ’tec man fully got the projects booming indeed
Ik rende door de tunnel, Terrorize snelheid
That’s when I was still in the jungle slangin that D
I’mma go hard on ya’ll niggas
Dart ya’ll niggas out, dropping science
To let ya’ll know what the kid about
I hang like the disco ball, on the floor
I’m like John Travolta, suede blazing with my chest showing
Ringen en die harde jeans, alsjeblieft, ik ben comfortabel op de plek
So I’m never handcuffing my queen
It’s a Theodore movement, glock holding kids
Met de chocolade boomers, aiyo fuck die geruchten
Laat je meisje bij me, ik zal die bloomers krijgen
Bang that like Desi Arness, with the cowskin cougars
Blijf staren in de ogen van de kampioen, overal in deze rap shit
Punk muthafucka, I get you blamped, word life, my throat is high
Zie RiggaTone met het fluwelen masker op
Zijn glazen arm aan het schoonmaken…
Who want to battle the Don?
Ik ben James Bond in de Octagon met twee scheermessen
Ik wed dat jullie allemaal niet wisten dat ik een nep arm had.
Ik verloor het, wild en rauw voor rap, Ik was gettin ‘it on
Took a fat nigga out in like 40secs
My gun get hard with a 45 still erects and eagle on
Kangol hat slanted coconut bounce to Morocco
Guerilla medallions like Flavor Flav clock yo
Negers willen me dood, maar ze zijn bang om op me af te stappen.
Rip they guts out like a hysterectomy
When beef collide look on the flip by the penitentiary kite
Or get you bumped off from the inside
Jaws is hanging
Frauds is leftin they draws on the floor complaining
Bird ass nigga lijkt op Keenon Ivory Wayans
Blijf op je plaats vuil geboren rappers krijgen Shadow box voor training
Ya’ll still eatin bacon
Yeah nigga, dat klopt
Je weet dat je nu met een dart master rotzooit, yo
Yo, I’ve done walked on fire (fire), never got burnt (burnt)
Slapen op glas, nooit gesneden
En brak een paar neusbeenderen, yo, stak een rondje of twee af
At certain dudes where they dropped their phones
Yo this straight crack (yeah), even my hand got taken to jail
Voor het schrijven van moord, mijn pols kon het niet aan in borgtocht
Ze lieten mijn vingers voor dood achter, vertelden hen
“Ik heb niets te maken met het schrijven”
I hold you down when you be squeezing that lead
Shopping sprees, with my mans on the corner watch D’s
Rolling in three’s, in them purple capri’s
A gritty bop, my watch is bigger, wallo’s with the gold tassels
Your old slave, with Starkey Love on the shackle
And I stay fly underwater, my toes is iced out
Ik heb de nagels eraf gehaald, jullie flikkers kunnen de prijs uitrekenen
Het is kleingeld, jullie trutten gaan mijn kokosnoot halen
Haal mijn slippers, voordat ik ga schieten.
Ik hou van deuce of diamonds cutting spades on a glass table
Een half miljoen op mijn linkerenkel
Terry cloth Guess shorts robes is comfortabel
Breng me een lekker wijf dat betekent dat ik met je zal neuken
Mijn branie is Mick Jagger, ‘stones’ is ‘rolling
Prestige is gesneden tot het thee vonkje toen wiet omhoog ging
Het cacaoblad is licht vochtig
Spruitend in de achtertuin naast Gran Duke tomatenplanten
And jets get charted marquee shit with the cars on it
They head and they earl to the toilet and vomit
Back East summer MC king since Cuban
Pretty Tone Iron Man en Bulletproof en Supreme
Cuffi on, double deuce in the jeans
My man shape was on the floor with the mother load both of them green
IBF WBC Cruiserweight title shots en Rap belts behoren tot D.C.