4 Broz By Broz - Sissy Walk [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[MC Half Mast]
I’m rappin, I’m rappin’, someone please hand me a napkin
I like to wipe my fingers after every time I’m snackin'
Sucka Slim back on the mic so let us get a crackin’
A crackin on some Kraken, the Cruzan or even Captain
Working on this case like my name was Bert Macklin.
So now let me see who the culprit could be
Pound a few drinks, and now I gotta pee
Could someone clarify “What the heck was in that whiskey”
Dr. Brule, Dr. Brule diagnose my flow
Is it ill, in need of pills, will it stop the show?
I don’t really care cause I’m a doctor too
Just sawr a dang stranger and that stranger was you!
Haven’t been to Dave & Busters, cool your thrusters
If you ask, then Haph Mast will smack all you Mother fuckers
Swimming in the glass lined tanks of old Latrobe
Get out, dry off, throw on my robe
It’s when I take it off bitches flock me in droves
They love my verse cause I don’t care for prose
With my man Tater Chips, his salty smells hit my nose
He’s locking up the track in case you didn’t know
Back from the dead 2k10 has arose
Or it seems as he gleams from his head to his toes
Laying down this track for the mutha lovin’ bros
All the lumber was bought from a place called Lowe’s
We got a chorus on this one, and here’s how it goes

[Hook]
Illness in our spit - We got a sick flow
Just like a bakery - We make a lotta dough
Our beds are ten feet high - We never lie low
You keep on coming back- So here’s a little mo’

[Lil 2k10]
Word on the street is people got to know
Why I go by 2k10 YO that was three years ago, bro
Long story but if you're gonna bitch like krang
I can rang the dang thang for the gang if you hang, mang
This tale I will tell in a free flow niche
To which I got to switch when I get that itch, bitch
Rolling - twelve patrolling - 4 broz BLAOW 'OH SHIT' and then
I glocked a way out - that's why they call me 2k10
So if you want to roll with me I only got one rule
Got to roll with all the broz and pay for the fuel, fool
You got to get us pabst and you got to pay the bill
And buy all the meat I'll throw it on the grill
If the pigs come down on us you'll be taking the heat
You're a lucky bastard, this deal can't be beat
But if you give us shit our good will goes down the drain
End up in Rage-a's backyard six feet under next to Wayne

[Tater Chips]
It's the snack food Jesus coming down from the sky
Elected President of Hip-Hop High
Two fucking times and I'm drinking wine
Hand me the mic, it's my time to shine
I cast a lyrical spell on your Supreme Clientele
Like American Idol, I'm hung quite well
So let's go Pop Pop, and I won't stop stop
If you dip into my wallet, you're gonna get shot
I don't like Kid Rock or the Boston Red Sox
Let me lift up my fingers and leave you in shock
As I rock every block from Belize to Bombay
Putting cream in your grits - Parlez-vous français?
Don't fucking play or you'll wind up dead
"Uhh, Jimmy can't go to school, there's a hole in his head"
Force fed the best rap group of all time
They use my rhymes as proof of intelligent design
Let me redefine your definition of truth:
I saw Sasquatch, I don't need any proof
Me and Sas smoking grass up in Arkansas
With the Yeti Girls - yes, it was a blast
Sucka Slim, 2k10 - tight like Frog and Toad
My words flow, so start stopping your boots
Tater Chips coming home with all your looooooot!