El Sangre - Palaver Grappler [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Your rhymes are so pussy I could make them fucking climax
My mixed verbal arts are on attack
My microphone's a metaphor for an oral receptor
Come forth in awe, see my convex vector
The bulge on the top of my recording unit
To spit the rhythm too quick is too sick
Everywhere in this verse is a euphemism
And all the words have truth within em
They lube up the booming rhythm
Please don't be an assuming system
Before you get immersed, know first about the worst curse on a verse
Um...
I fucked up the words there, sorry, mate
It's hard to contemplate and enunciate
All the phraseology so here's my apology
You can't come through to me if all ya wanna do is screw with me

Badadada, I'm the palaver grappler
I got the skill and force to match ya
There's no doubt I own you, meaning I'm a taxpayer
I write my bars with my arms, verbal armbar
Your producer's tapping over the play button over and over
Cause all your pussy rhymes are in submission
When I spit the rhythm, kick ill composition
Break hearts with all the women
Spirit breaking and deceiving
I'll be receiving a bunch of people believing
Because I started off non profit but now I'm worshipped as a prophet
I gotta tell a fella "That's my dick, now get off it"
That's what ya heard, play on words, son, they be absurd
I'm funky with the word, the adjective and the adverb
Flex this and wreck this with my lexis
Cause the best is the nexus that connects this to Texas

We do a bit of grappling, trying to get position
I'm the main event of this particular exhibition
Here comes a hip toss heavier than Rick Ross
My mixed verbal arts are boss, you've already lost
My scarf hold will keep you warm this harsh winter
And then I'll find your girl and loosen up her sphincter
Side control is like a mould for what I'm going to do next
Triangle to the neck or a dead-lift German suplex?
Suddenly getting into mount
U wot
So quick your brain doesn't recognize it or account
I make the women hypnotized with my real crook, bold talk
I make the fellas paralyzed with my heel hook and mohawk
With my sick rhymes, they're on the dick all the time, no issue
Tighter than the style on a black belt in jiu jitsu
Grappling a gentle pace unlike the hook that will hit you