Origineel
[Verse 1: Stack Bundles]
[?]
Got the fishscale
Rubber grip pistol
Pop, like it’s Cristal
Rich lip wow, [?] with the [?]
Had to struggle to get my weight up
Left lane, left lane now they want me to wait up
Can’t slow my pace, no time to waste
[?] who the fuck face to face
Gotta embrace the hate with this life of mine
Y’all wanna raise the stakes put your life on the line
Mine’s is real
Stack Bun’ signed and sealed
Got a mean watch game, keep the ice real
[?] I don’t like talking
And I keep some hot wheels
Bitches catch feelings when I’m walking
Bop too gangster, Glock too heavy
No more turnovers I got Far Rock steady
[Hook]
I keep it gutter like
I keep it gutter like
I keep it gutter like
I keep it gutter like
[Verse 2: Lupe Fiasco]
You can see me, low key in a Ford
No keys, the doors open like grocery stores
Or see me four-fifthin
I had you niggas pourin liquor out like it’s prohibition
The piece that speaks for itself
And the row I gotta mention the flow that’s tension
No flinching
Pop benching with them 245s
Or [?] moving pies like FOIs
Y’all don’t know though
I’m the illest crime caught on tape since Caine and O-Dog
And I won’t talk, even if I’m caught red-handed
Like don’t walk, I flip it with no thoughts
Shit on, everything you big on
The [?] with no [?]
[?] clips ons
You can talk until you blue in the face
But you can pause it, if you ain’t [?] in the face
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Stack Bundles]
Red niggas got hate in they veins
I clap niggas leave hate in they brain
Let me teach ya
The hood niggas call me Roger
Cause I’m flooded in carrots
And I floss every day like it’s Easter
The beats the reason I ryhyme
Streets the reason I grind
And I don’t need heat to shine
Cause I didn’t when y’all oppress me
End up dead or missing like Elvis Presley
[Verse 4: Lupe Fiasco]
You know I keep a chick topless, keep my whip topless
Keep my spit toxic
You keep it in the closet
[?] things can get un-pretty
Like bars left from Chili
For the sake I hope I keep everything quaker oats, real gritty
Or 3-0-50
On the rocks like Whitney
Filthy, and [?] like spittin dutch and gillie
Close, but no Philly
[Hook] x2
Vertaling
[Verse 1: Stack Bundles]
[?]
Got the fishscale
Rubber grip pistol
Pop, like it’s Cristal
Rich lip wow, [?] met de [?]
Ik moest worstelen om mijn gewicht omhoog te krijgen.
Linkerbaan, linkerbaan, nu willen ze dat ik wacht.
Kan mijn tempo niet vertragen, geen tijd te verspillen.
Wie de fuck is er oog in oog?
Gotta embrace the hate with this life of mine
Als jullie de inzet willen verhogen, zet dan je leven op het spel.
Dat van mij is echt.
Stack Bun’ signed and sealed
Got a mean watch game, keep the ice real
Ik hou niet van praten
And I keep some hot wheels
Bitches catch feelings when I’m walking
Bop te gangster, Glock te zwaar
No more turnovers I got Far Rock steady
[Hook]
I keep it gutter like
I keep it gutter like
I keep it gutter like
I keep it gutter like
[Verse 2: Lupe Fiasco]
You can see me, low key in a Ford
No keys, the doors open like grocery stores
Or see me four-fifthin
I had you niggas pourin liquor out like it’s prohibition
Het stuk dat voor zichzelf spreekt
And the row I gotta mention the flow that’s tension
No flinching
Pop benching met die 245s
Or [?] moving pies like FOIs
Jullie weten het allemaal niet
Ik ben de gemeenste misdaad die op band staat sinds Caine en O-Dog
En ik zal niet praten, zelfs als ik op heterdaad betrapt word
Zoals niet lopen, ik flip het zonder gedachten
Shit on, everything you big on
De [?] met geen [?]
[?] clips ons
Je kunt praten tot je blauw in het gezicht bent
Maar je kan het pauzeren, als je niet in het gezicht bent
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Stack Bundles]
Red niggas got hate in they ains
I clap niggas leave hate in they brain
Let me teach ya
The hood niggas call me Roger
Cause I’m flooded in carrots
And I floss every day like it’s Easter
The beats the reason I ryhyme
Streets de reden dat ik maal
And I don’t need heat to shine
Want dat deed ik niet toen jullie me onderdrukten
Eindig ik dood of vermist zoals Elvis Presley
[Verse 4: Lupe Fiasco]
You know I keep a chick topless, keep my whip topless
Keep my spit toxic
You keep it in the closet
Dingen kunnen on-pretty worden
Like bars left from Chili
Voor het welzijn hoop ik dat alles quaker haver is, echt gruis
Of 3-0-50
On the rocks like Whitney
Filthy, and [?] like spittin dutch and gillie
Close, but no Philly
[Hook] x2