Diabolic - The Master [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Uh-huh
Diabolic
Will show you how to do this
Game's of rap now
Triple O, Brookyln Ac now
Check it

I'm not at all a baller, I'm a soldier for bread
Yeah I pop bottles with bar fights over ya head
Bitch you gave good brain, but I'm over ya head
Kind of like when I rhyme, I'm over ya head
Forced to dumb it down, so y'all know what I said
But I'm over the game, it's game over instead
What I've learned lately, made me stir <--(?) crazy
I learned Nina's a dead president's first lady
Left my nerves shaky, provoking violence
On every soldier who broke the code of silence
You need to open your eyes, see the ultraviolet
Before I open 'em for you and slash both your eyelids
Broke and wildling, raw gram bagging
Two chicks jumped on my dick like it's the bandwagon
So busy braggin' 'bout the rocks you picked off
Put a gun in your waist and almost shot your dick off
So pay attention to what I say and mention
I'm trying to own New York down to the mayor's pension
Can taste the tension, streets is talkin'
And the beast is hawkin', on every read <--(?) he's walkin'
Lookin' for an excuse to call reinforcements
So proceed with caution, or see a coffin
I'll read your fortune, to see the future
Squeeze a ruga <--(?), serve beef like Peter Lugar
D's and troopers, the first of three targets
To get set up ??, for first degree charges
Any rapper you put verses me garbage
I'd rather serve a demon, burn the weed harvest
You cannot be hood, you Hollywood pussy
Well Bolic just want that Hollywood pussy
I could rap for weeks, y'all just rappin' weak
You ain't have the streets, you had 'em fast asleep
Blastin' heat, knives slash and butcher
Cause y'all punk bitches like Ashton Kutcher
Diabolic, man with the shortest fuse
Defeats out my pipe's range <--(?), can't afford to lose
Money talks, it speaks and I listen
And life's the bitch with bare feet in my kitchen
Screamin' and bitchin' so I'm plottin' for wealth
Gettin' bars off my chest like I'm spottin' myself

Diabolic, Triple O, Brooklyn Academy
Got cats scared to battle me
Packing jams with capacity
Game over