BC - End [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

I'm always paranoided out
Plan a route, and rap and shout
Can't control what's in my mouth
And I spit it out like sauerkraut
They want me planning back accounts
But fuck that, I'm not going out

I'm pacing, racing faces through my cranium
And now I'm blatantly facing an erasing of my own latent patience
So I better brace it

Look at this, he's really doing this
I'm cuing it, he's going all ludacris
Even though he's like a high schooler's crucifix

He's the Vladimir Putin of hit and miss
Fitting in with bigger kids
When alone, he's throwing fits and then
He pillages villages for Ritalin
Before he starts pitching in rhythms for the children
Militantly killing windowsills that he still is in

You were always in the danger
And that's why we're bigger strangers

You're always paranoided out
You can't be loud, you're raining out
Can't control what's in your mouth
But you're going down like power out
I'm dope up in this powerhouse
I've gotta get this show on now

He's as unfitted to the situation
As a critic to the tinted window where he's tapping pistol
Get a whiff of this, he's dangerous
Took a couple steps to get the hang of this
Now he's in the heavens where the angels is

A big fan of his own panorama
From Atlanta to the Alabama to the Cosmogramma
Rhymes like ceramic, cannot even stand to see him aging
Like bananas, can't ya?

Shit was happening
Harder than the caps of knees
And he slipped through the authorities like some fingers in some Vaseline

They're never passing me
Apparently got a passion for catastrophe
So it's a guarantee
That they're be blown to Tatooine
If they hassle me

Vision's clear but there's a stain in the glass
He's like Max Payne, he always lives in the past
That's why he's always reminiscing in his class
It was quite bizarre how he ever managed to pass

But alas, his little life was flat
'fore he had the mic to grasp
And the peers harassed
And then they saw the wealth he stashed
Took some notes from the villain with the mask

And that's how he spits like that
Always brash and taking couple sippies from his silver flask
And leaving 'em in caskets
Close to blowing gasket
But he writes another racket
And his case is a basket one
Never done
He'll go out with the solar sun
His life has only just begun
He'll spit off like a Gatling gun
Until his wallet weighs a ton

And his music is reciprocal of physical
A frontier in the digital
The day he's meddling is the day of reckoning
Questioning anything deafening coming from the local TV screens
Where his face is settling

And if you touch me, it's a felony
As much taste as some celery
And they're filled with jealousy
At the overflowing zealotry
Coming from the one supreme

I make 'em paranoided out
Make a sound, they chant and shout
Can't control what's in their mouth
And they spit it out like sauerkraut
They're filling up my bank account
The audience is going loud

They're blazing, raisin' fists in the stadium
And now they're blatantly facing an erasing of their own
Crazed sensation
So I better face them

Look at this, I'm really doing this
I'm cuing it, I'm going all ludacris