D-Con - Line 'Em Up [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[D-Con]

Line 'em up, line 'em up, put 'em in a line dude
I'm sick of these pigs like the motherfuckin' swine flu
We sick of bein' lied to, need I remind you?
Half you rappers claim hoods you wouldn't even drive through

I've got the sickest mind since ODB
I came to put the game in order, OCD
Haha, If you could only see
Like a grand of fake cash, ya'll some phony g's

We can throw hands like a poker game
I'll squeeze your fuckin' throat till your vocals change
Fuck the ones who hate on my huge checks dude
And to my dyslexic haters, U-F too

Your whole styles played out like a fiddle, faggot
Like a small poster, I'm a little graphic
If you ever gripe that you don't like my track
Thats like comin' up to Debo and askin' for your bike back

In the mall the other day with a new girl, splurgin'
She say my flow tighter than the pussy of a virgin
She's lookin for a sugardaddy, askin' where the price at
Bitch! Do I look like I look at the pricetag?

Stacks on the whip, boy I'm sittin on chrome
Plus my pockets look like a senior citizen home
Smoke trails follow me like I'm the head of a cult
We rip the bong like the shirt of The Incredible Hulk

Got Bic lighters on deck if you ever lack one
Pushin' obese people down hills, roll me a fat one
High till we die, Snoop is knowin' what I mean
My eyes are the only thing droopin' lower than my jeans

Haters talk tough, but you better listen cowards
Step to me you'll get dropped like soap in prison showers
So all that rappin' you do about your hollows, bury it
I'm bringin' more heat than Apollo's Chariot

Groupies chasin me like they out runnin' laps
These bitches pull a Brett Favre, they keep comin' back
I was broke as fuck and they'd barely get love then
But now I run the underground like Harriet Tubman

So fuck passin' the torch, I'm keepin' it like a secret
My words like Nostradamus so you better believe it
I wasn't feelin ya'll like a parapalegic
Thought this rap shit would never work out like an obese kid

These bitches talkin serious, baby we can cut it up
But talkin long term its like a hurricane, shut her up
Wants me to cum inside her like the Trojan Horse
But you won't breed my seed because I wear my Trojan, whores

Like Usain Bolt, I'm on the track
Can't sleep on my skill, insomniac
I'm just rappin' anything, I don't need a theme
You know your lifes good when it's better than your dreams

Sick of these snakes like I'm Sam Jackson
'Cept nothin' I say is ever plain and I can't stand actin'
Phony ass rappers, lyin' through speakers
But me I run the map like it's tied to my sneakers

So to those clamin' the streets in your wack rap circles
But shots'll make you duck like an Aflac commercial
But me I'm lettin' off the entire clip
Cause I'm out for more blood than a vampire crip