D. Ciano - Under The Influence [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1: D. Ciano]

I don’t know why they want me to stop, just give me one more
So what I can’t hold my liquor… that’s what the cups for
A girl told me get off the ground, I asked her what floor?
Then asked if she was what Colione called her, a young whore
*Record stops*
But screw blaming a few of those, shorty knew
She was upset like New England in Super Bowl 42
Thought I knew to stop soon as my circle finished the first round
Could barely walk 10 yards without being the first down
These shots I took from the field got my percentage low
Yet my team still setting screens up for the give n go
And I go, to chase her & taste her, I wanna see her
Brown sipping White, do thermometer’s check for jungle fever?
Two sips got me too lit…. if I down it I’ll fall
My two lips drenched with juice and now I’m slouched on the wall
It’s too quick, it hit me harder, how can I stall?
Go get Eustace, this liquid courage is cowardly dawg

[Chorus]
Pour a little in my cup, pour a little in my cup
Pour a little in my cup, pour a little in my cup
Pour a little in my cup, pour a little in my cup
Pour a little in my cup, pour a little in my cup

[Verse 2: Playboy Tre]
I’m on a double shot of bitch please
A nigga flow so cold, it need a sick leave
I need a sick leave, better yet, a sick year
What your boy been drinking tonight it take ya six years
So gon’ head and pour another, then another, then another one
I’ll mix that with the other one
And when I’m finally fucked up you’ll know lady
Talking nothing but cash money like I know Baby
The whole hood going crazy like a psych ward
A bunch of gangsters in a cold city like the vice lords
Yea.. so tell me what the fuck we on now
Mind on some kidnap shit, I’m really gone now
Yea.. I don’t think that I’ll be coming back
Tell your mouth this ain’t track, don’t be running that
Take a look around tell me what you really see
Trey Boy and D. Ciano good as it can be

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Suave Colione]
White liquor out the shot glasses to the face
Head nods synchronized to the bass
A dog as ladies refer me, to adult domesticates
A lady killer like Tom Hanks
Venue packed wall to wall, but I still feel a cast away
Mixing the, Vivica Fox with the Anne Hathaway
Till my self control is half away
Swim moves through defense to score the sex eyes and wordplay
Neck kiss, foreplay to the cuts of the DJ
Feeling good too good to attend to the he say, she say
It’s ironic true blood is crip blue
So high the crowd look microscopic through my view
Handling stresses of human emotions through sky blue
Feeding her mind sex through [?] and haiku
Libations at perfect balance of tipsy and too loose
Fly as a fleet pilot and fresh as the produce