Ave Venture - Mic'd Up [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1: Ave Venture]
Yo, where do I begin at? Ima start it where the end at
But the bars is all through-out pay no mind to the syntax
Its just another palindrome, empire Modern Rome, bread like Italian homes
Pockets deep, passes overthrown, Am I all alone?
Tell me where the top at?
Shawty neck me off, then she tell her friend to top that
Little bit of humor could you tell me if you got that
If she got a golden ticket show her where my candy shop at
I’m Willy Wonka, I’m bonkers, I’m a turret gun on that chopper
Crushin all these cucarachas, I’m the hulk to all you blankas
I've infected all you’re doctors, this the fat bitch in yo operas
And I put that on Martha, my brothers, sisters and my father
Ain’t no cure for this I’m serious ya niggas know I black
Overconfident, an egotist; reflection get no slack
Look him in his eyes tell that nigga that he wack
He look at me and he say back

[Verse 2: Ave Venture]
Like a day of independence, all ya clouds is intermittent
But my rain like reign is forever, fuck all of this permission
A rebel without a cause, a diamond without a flaw
Niggas grill me cause I floss they just mad at my position
Let me tell u what this is: the “do's” vs. the “didn’t”
I’m tryna feed my fam you just in this on the bitches
So if this the road to riches nd that’s what keep you driven
You ain’t racing how I’m racing, ima meet you at the finish..
Line, no battle scars on my epidermis
Picture perfect, straight bars like I left the perm in
Listen to the word like you sitting through a sermon
How could you not see like a 1940's German
This the fury of a Fuhrer type, brightest days and darkest nights
Darkest days and brightest nights, same power as Green Lantern’s light
Gimme the beat, I spit on the beat, I bury the beat that shit dead
These niggas scratch they heads like “what?”

[Hook]
I still think ya don’t listen
Ya just don’t listen
Ima give em more

[Verse 3: Ave Venture]
I’m Ricky Bobby on a beat, you niggas on ya slow shit
Got a cougar in the car you just driving wit ya old bitch
New watch go with my old kicks, new clothes go with my old fit
Stop and smell the roses, soak it in like its osmosis
I’m mic'd up in my rapper groove
Feeling like the early afternoon
But not quite twelve or two
Compare our skills but I don’t stay for after school
There ain’t no evening out
If I said it then I meant it, It ain’t even a doubt
I ain’t grounded but you know “A” in the house
Do I even gotta ask ya should gimme the crown
‘Cause I earned it, I deserve it who telling me not?
And never say I’m murdered if I died from a shot
Assassinated if you famous; hero burial plots
Let me go in a tuxedo and sum Jeremy Scott’s
If I make it into heaven show me Biggie or ‘Pac
So I can play this song and ask em if they feel it or not
Now I’m back to being mic'd up I’m Jordan on a 3 peat
I’m Tyson in a title shot, it’s rare for them to beat me
Every beat im on just keep adding to my win streak
As you fall into a deep sleep, you fucking with a neat freak
So get ya shit in order, go find order put ya shit in
It sound different cause I flipped it, I’m going for the pick 6
I’m sliders and a hit-stick you a second round 6th pick
Sick shit, don’t even get me started like a 6th men
Or 6th man, Tyler boys, A&K all the way
My new broad like 24 I think she born in ‘88
Sex-o-matic Venus Freak and she thick like Macy Gray
I let her stand right near the ruler, I nicknamed her Dana Dane
She love my team she throw it up
I’m Sam Jackson with a gun
And all these niggas saying “what?”