Don't Flop - Ogmios vs Matter (Round One) [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Ogmios]
Yo, who put a snapback on a Psammead
Don't know what a Psammead is?
It lives in the sand
It's a sad fact that you keep your sand in that
You pop up and chat crap to kids on some scam attack
Your battle rap's spammiad
You may as well back track up to your granny's flat
And just Snapchat us your fanny flaps
See it's apt that I say that right
'Cos your raps have no replay vibe
You're the game of life on an atheist vibe
Me? I'm GTA 5
My release got people awaiting lines
Ready to reload and take their time
Over my schemes layout and design
Until it really stays in their minds
So you're the spit of Mr Magoo
You sound like you spit through a didgeridoo
'Cos you are here it's true
But your voice, it's in a different room
When you rap it sounds like someone moaning
While they're scuba-diving
Your producer's called Sonar, and even he can't neutralise it
He puts an anti-matter filter on after you voice it
And it stills like your rapping from the toilet
I feel sorry for your crew
With you, trolling every song
When you rap about 'Smoking the bong'
It sounds like you're actually trying to rap while you're smoking a bong
And in your Yorkshire cyphers they've got to do the work that you're shy to put in
Their gas got you puffed up, Yorkshire Pudding
And it's not I check for the slang that you man shout
When I say it's just Dialect that stands out
And I'm so bitter at
Those who insisted that
This is a mirror match
I guess I'll have to live with that
'Cos really it's his missus that actually has to live with that
Or maybe you could be my twin, my evil twin
My pathetic, creepy, mis-shapen, feeble, weasel-faced twin
You were the fetal gimp
My feet all in your chin
Kicking you into the corner of the womb
Growing twisted and deformed as he grew
Living of a quarter of the food
After birth you were an afterthought that would have been aborted if we knew
But it's not true
We're not twins
'Cos you've been alone and confused
Since your dad's scrotum produced
One stoned slow-moving spermatazoon
That fused with the last ever ovum to fuse with your mother's fallopian tubes
From that moment it's been all over for you
Breathing was a bonus for you
But now that's over too
'Cos this is the hands of Conan
Strangling the throat glands of Hans Moleman

[Matter]
You said you're like GTA 5, blatantly you're not
But your punches are, because we've got to wait ages for them to drop
Now, the second game of the new season
Time to strap on my boots
Avoided a two match ban for that two footed tackle on Youth
This is my season, time to provide the fans with the proof
The ref blows the whistle, let the madness ensue
Let's get started with this shit
First minute, the ball stays in the same half and then it's switched
Gets passed to Matter, he controls it calmly with a flick
Races up the line touchline like he's Nani on the wing
Strikers waiting in the box, they're all barging for an inch
The're all waiting for the cross, but whoah, whoah, whoah
Who let this fucking Dalai Lama on the pitch
Alright, I'mma set it off
Fuck you saying, Eggmios
Don't think that I'mma let you off
Your inevitable exit on a stretcher 'cos you're extra soft
Forget it boss
I'll put my hands around your neck and Hoooold On
Like the Beggars song
I must be crazier than Crazy Glue
To agree to be here facing you
'Cos I'm like Weezy in the courtroom - I paid my dues
Ayo, Dialect, you heard these little faggots hating on Yorkshire talk with a passion?
Well there's no way this could sound as sick in a different accent:
*Coughs* You fucking hippy bastard
And since he's acting like he didn't catch it
I'd better talk to him in his hippy language
Like I'll dash him in the seas of Ibiza when the tide's high
Watch him change colours and wave about like tye-dye
He thought he would stop the strength to fight the sea
But it pulls him farther back
Drags him on, watch the bubbles rising like a lava lamp
Laughing like spazzing on acid as he strains for breath
As he's thankful just to be laid to rest
That's Grateful Dead
You ain't never caught a rape charge
Not even one
You just stay calm and talk about multidimensional quasars
And how we're just a blip on the intergalactic radar
But I hate stars
That's why I place you at the bottom of the board with all your space bars
And TBH
As soon as this battle was TBA
I knew I CBA
Well BBK when I go to war on drugs like the DEA
Leave [?] like a CCJ
And trust I'll leave him spinning like a CDJ