Internal Rhyme - Comfort Zone [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1: Internal Rhyme]
Never had the ice cream paint job, wheels on the whipped
Up bananas, I just damage with appeal, then I split
I push my mama's wheel missing two hub caps
It's a bitch, but I'd rather keep it real on this shit with you
It's not an issue, more a lifestyle to switch to
These wankers won't wait, tossing the white towels for whistles
And a quick few million, hell nizzion
I'ma stay true, these loopholes are right out to get you
Narrating these novels until you're 10-4
Ain't no surprise when I vocalize I open eyes like cantors
And will fight 'til you're no less than damn sure
That I'm pushing on right like the Ekman Transport
Now we're literally dropping science
In the bars, my alliances stretch as far as Orion's
I'm holding the belt, I'll triumph, not cause I burn bread
But more cause it's Jerm spreading, they say I'm sick as a virus, boy

[Hook] (x2)
You know what I'm 'bout (Ay)
You know what I'm 'bout (Ay)
You know what I'm 'bout (Ay)
You know what I'm 'bout (Ay)
And fuck that money, money, we be comfortable without
Just give me your attention and the rest I'll figure out

[Verse 2: Kwite Bleak]
My verses terminal, write my rhymes in the cemetery
Rappers can't see me like the 31st of February
My flow cold, that's Philly Flavor, they still debate us
I'm here to rake up so get your weight up
I wake 'em up like vultures, four leaf clovers field in my timeline
As I grew older, had to keep it cut cause of them cobras
Slicker than slitherin', you slip and they just slither in (slither in)
Now a days we born to lose, but we built to win
Spark some insane piff, kush clouds I hang in
I fall, it's like shooting stars, dawg what you sayin?
My eyes look like roses, flame spittin', I sip fire
Cross me and I go off like tripped wires
Internal Rhyme and I, more like Dexter and Bill Nye
Boxing the booth, getting Guinness World Record stilt high
Time is money, so I get money by time
If we fall off, it's like we sky dive
You know what I'm bout

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Internal Rhyme]
Face facts, your personality's shambles
A fame addict, guzzling twitter handles
Who would prefer to floss and put your talent on a standstill
Meanwhile I been doing work, and I'm the man still
Fam, the man's ill, from 94 then, 'til
Lit up to blow your mind like a candle
Due to pure sincerity, hierarchial tyranny
Ruling the game, these lames ain't as cool as they 'pear to me
But I've been eagerly waiting to shine like spreading Kiwi
Through the lines I'm shedding freely on these lullabies beneath me
Ha, I get it easily, after so many centuries
Of writing secretly, I found the sound my music's meant to be
And I'm getting that support, stretches far as eyes can see
So it seems to me as if I won't be using my degree
But shit, honestly that's fine by me
Long as I rock this mic daily to aline my dream

[Hook]