Blair Johnson - No Comparison [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

I slightly skim the surface of philosophical prophet, optional
Pockets of lint compared to a bloody dollar of jaw and bone
I pick the lint so sip your fifth and gloat about the whip you're with
The simple sin of simpletons' obsession with a bigger dick
It's habit, the pride and all the status gotta have it
Guess I took the red pill, there's a truth to rabbit's madness
And I try to shuffle past it but the cash is quite attractive
Bruh, it's not like loot the last thing on my mental when I'm rapping
I ain't a badass prone to spitting the abstract
Not fast math calculated like the NASDAQ
With a mad hat brain absent of them whack raps
Chill your ass out, sit back and let the track blast
I let my "cack" blast on the mic when given chances
'Cuz I get off, but slow mo with my romantic advances
Gimmie 52 and I'll shoot off like a bottle rocket
I might got you noddin' off but being real y'all gotta stop it
Haters know I got a slaught that's sturdier than otter boxes
Pretty raps for kiddies and some brainy lines for moms and popses
And while them record labels flaunt the fool they got for profit
Talent roams the streets can't even eat so fuck your god and college
And "rappers" ain't sinless, ignorance seeming endless
They acting like they a spitter but really they whack beginners
They search for their 15 minutes whether they get it or not
They’re fake might as well be pop I’m irate and I’m ‘bout to pop
Get a taste of my bliss withdrawal I'm Illin' until I'm still and
This gentle and mental art suddenly 'bout the dope and killing
Industry's not to blame I guess, keep the shit the same I guess
Couldn't look them in the eye when you say wise is lame I guess
Let the kiddies think that "getting success" means get a chain I guess
Be part of that shit? No my dude I'd rather hang my neck
The sadness that you claim to have ain't half of all the pain I get
I owe this game the best I got, I don't plan to sustain my debt
I’m coming for your necks, whether or not I be scaring them
Erring in songs with caution I ain’t a provo like Marilyn
Provolone or asparagus MM.. Food? is my menu
Serving this bloody cut big or small be size of the venue
Oh am I offending? I been rude, struggle? My man, I been there
Whether whiny or vent tunes it’s always real ‘cuz I been Blair
It ain’t fair to compare a fakie Jake with a menthol
With an underground with talent out the wazoo, man it’s been raw
It’s fun to be a rapper, right? The appetite for afterlife
Ain’t nothing when compared to pious fame worship like acolytes
Ego ‘bout as big as prize pigs you think that I dig
Your shitty raps when half the city raps? In fact I want my fifty back
Big L reference anyone? Okay, folks, more for me then
And if I ever make it half ass rappers prep for the end
I’ll resend, resend, until it drills into your skull
I did my part of the bargain but every push needs its pull
There's no comparison