Haas Spitta - To the Masses [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1]
This about to be historic, I give it to ‘em euphoric
With lyrics formin’ a fortress, it’s impossible to forge it, my
Defensive power level is enormous
Fuck the fame I wanna mold your brain
The people need to escape from this matrix so they call me Morpheus
Witness magic assortment I’m sort of just like a sorceress
They ask me “who the coldest?” that’s
Me and the mic ‘cause we the culprit of magnetic forces
Ugly nigga fightin’ the devil away
‘Cause my soul is just so gorgeous, not to mention my flow is
Blessed with features that could stimulate your females organs
Muslim brother spittin’ over the organs in your churches
But of course it’s provoking
The white folk don’t wanna see brown boy attendin’ the masses
But the flow is ordained, bless with truth in my brain
I got to give it to the masses
Spread the message through tactics of rap culture
At my back vultures backbiting but that’s irrelevant
When you don’t even need to stay alive
My music will never die ‘cause
You see the flow is heaven sent under the guidelines of Jehovah law
Simply the illest, my evidence is these rhymes and lyrics when Jehovah call
Watch me blast sober thought through the ears of your children
I’m bringing ‘em too submission
You missin’ out if you miss it the flavor just so delicious
So naturally the industry is sure to take a lickin’
Haas the suburban student inspired by the ghetto movement
Now you know why I’m destined for the mission

(To the masses
In Damascus, man where the mask is
Never stop blastin’
To the masses
To the masses)

[Hook]
Till the casket I’ll never die
Never stop rollin’ in the cassette
Player, keep the fader on blast till the gas end
Never stop blastin’

[Verse 2]
They say the truth will set you free
My lord where have you placed that, needle in the haystack?
It’s that magic in the rubble, light at the end of the tunnel (yeah)
That underground shit
Scavenged the passage from lost libraries of Damascus
To the masses, where the mask is
I might never find it but I’ll surely die tryin’
You know I got the passion
My lord love me like the dance floor love Jackson
But it’s no thriller when
It’s written crystal clear on the tablet
They challenging me like you’ll never unmask it
The close-minded can’t imagine
The boy still ballin’ with a lid on the basket

[Hook] x2