Origineel
[Verse 1: Bossman Birdie]
Boss Birds, I was in the trap writing gold dust
Zoned out, painting pictures but with no brush
All roads to my destiny start with pound signs
Getting money by any means, that was our lives
Shimmy ya, shimmy shimmy yay, ODB
That’s what it’s like when a nigga owed me P
Used to be in the kitchen, big man weight
Flipping that dough, like we frying up pancakes
[Verse 2: Paper Pabs]
I can never leave the streets cuh it’s in my heart and soul
Just for playing, have you laying in the church, your heart, it go
Slurred speech, when I speak, so they think I sound lean
Alpine in my Alpino, pumping Al Green, old school
I was dying, all I had was two fiends
Hands dirty but my shoes clean, I had two dreams
Two chicks in my crib, check the camera’s on, record
I ain’t gonna stab ‘em but tonight these bitches getting bored
[Verse 3: Skepta]
The crack I sold had them buzzing on the road
Crack residue in the buttons on my phone
Black leather boots when I run into your home
Ring ring pussy, it’s your mummy on the phone
Yo Bossy, remember the first tool we ever had?
Rusty .38, came in a Gucci bag
Made a promise to Jesus that I would stop it when I blow
Now I’m in Brooklyn, they’re going crazy at my show
Vertaling
[Verse 1: Bossman Birdie]
Boss Birds, ik zat in de val goudstof te schrijven
Uitgezakt, schilderijen aan het maken maar zonder penseel
Alle wegen naar mijn lot beginnen met pond tekens
Geld verdienen met alle middelen, dat was ons leven
Shimmy ya, shimmy shimmy yay, ODB
Dat is hoe het is als een nigga me P schuldig is
We waren in de keuken, grote man gewicht
Flipping that dough, like we frying up pancakes
[Verse 2: Paper Pabs]
I can never leave the streets cuh it’s in my heart and soul
Just for playing, have you laying in the church, your heart, it go
Slurred speech, when I speak, so they think I sound lean
Alpine in my Alpino, pumping Al Green, old school
I was dying, all I had was two fiends
Handen vuil maar mijn schoenen schoon, ik had twee dromen
Two chicks in my crib, check the camera’s on, record
I ain’t gonna stab ‘em but tonight these bitches getting bored
[Verse 3: Skepta]
The crack I sold had them buzzing on the road
Crack residu in de knoppen van mijn telefoon
Black leather boots when I run into your home
Ring ring pussy, it’s your mummy on the phone
Yo Bossy, herinner je het eerste gereedschap dat we ooit hadden?
Roestige .38, kwam in een Gucci tas
Ik beloofde Jezus dat ik zou stoppen als ik zou blowen.
Nu ben ik in Brooklyn, ze worden gek bij mijn show