Dratchface - Muerte [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

(Intro)
La muerte es la única manera de escapar de la maldición que es la vida
Mi creación fue el error de Dios

[Verse 1: Dratchface]
Dratch is always eating rappers up, so call him No Face
He think his derelict flow is good enough to showcase
His lyrics are harder to make out than MBV’s is
I’m like aged brie, other rappers like some Cheez Whiz
Jesus, Imma show you where the steez is
Flow so bitter cold that when I spit, the mic freezes
I don’t believe this, Dratchface is still the freshest
On that Steve Albini shit, big and black like Precious
Nervous MC’s on the mic is mad fidgety
They open up their mouths and come out with jack diddley
Riddle me this, who got the smoothest lines in show biz?
Lyrics like Biggie and beats like Flying Lotus?
You know it’s gotta be the Dratch odyssey
You can always see me on a bike like Erik Estrada be
Tearing asses up like it's sodomy
There’s a tragic comedy in hearing MC’s express dismay audibly

Muerte

[Verse 2: Dratchface]
I split dicks when I stick em with blades, I give em AIDS
This shit is insane, could only be spitted by a sick brain
Dratch’s style alien, straight Mephistophelean
Old school, brushin the dust off like paleontologists
So don’t gimme no slick politics
All of this talk about acknowledgements is preposterous
You can’t follow this, I’m esoteric like Kabbalah is
Hotter than the kind of place where a koala lives
You’re dignified as a spring breaker with her boobs out
My gat’ll turn your bellybutton into an umlaut
Cuz you don’t wanna challenge my crew to a shootout
Dratchface, the gun toting Jew with a rude mouth
Who doubts me? Your apprehension won’t be rewarded
And even if it should be, lord knows I can’t afford it
I’m the most sordid, important dork who ever formed id
The poor kid sure did dry up her meat-eating orchid

Muerte

[Verse 3: Dratchface]
Dratch is back, and always scheming on fat chances
Abstract, and onstage screaming like Black Francis
Every young lady who hears this track dances
And gets low like sagged pants is
Other MC’s lines are rancid
Dratchface’s style is like axiomatic semantics
Self-evident meaning in the language and the metaphors
Linguistic prowess emanates from my sweatin pores
Motherfucker, you don’t know who you’re talking to
This cocky dude can never not be rude, but god, he’s cute
A groggy youth who’s been known to sleep ‘till prolly noon
With lyrics so sharp they could shave a body smooth
A bawdy Jew hocking mixtapes outside the EMP
Even though my thin skin is pinker than a peony
And everyone I give it to wants me to leave em be
So I dunno what a label or a girl could even see in me

Muerte

[Verse 4: Dratchface]
Y’all talk a lot of shit, but you can’t back it up (back it up)
Cuz your tracks suck and you lack guts
Or you’re gonna when I bust a rhyme and you crack up
So you better sack up ‘fore I blast ya
With a black gat with a sawed-off barrel
Yo, look at Dratch, he’s gone all feral
Y’all be careful, allow me to give you an earful
And when I get through, you won’t look so cheerful
Simple bitches amble twixt the candlesticks
Basic like the whole milk one imbibes with delicious corned beef sandwiches
Y’all motherfuckers can’t handle this, I got numerous tactical advantages
The flow I brandish is sharp enough to at least put y’all in bandages
And I ain’t gonna hand this shit off to another MC, I can manage it solo
But you don’t know how I’m gonna put a schlomo in a casket with his pants in a twist
Hands in a fist and his fans in a tizzy, with a flow that’s dizzy for a cancerous cyst
On the back of the whole rap game, which just I can’t stay away from, I got too many rants to resist

Muerte