J. Cole - BRONX ZOO FREESTYLE [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Intro: DJ Clue]
Yeah, DJ Clue
Desert Storm, aight
We gon' set shit off
You know how we do things, word
Hahahahahahaha

[Verse: J. Cole, The Notorious B.I.G. & DJ Clue]
In a Ferrari or Lamb truck switchin' wide lanes (One)
Top down screamin' out “them niggas all lame” (One two)
Came up from the mud puddles, then it all changed (Check me out right here, yo)
Livin' Ghetto Fab like my brother named Paul Cain
Somewhere 'long the way, I hate to say we lost shame (You can turn the track up a little bit for me)
Grown men peddlin' gossip of all things (All up in my ears)
I remеmber when it was rappin' and ball-playin' (The mic is loud, but thе music isn't loud)
Now the bread and butter is yappin' and parlayin'
Aw man, your name's a big conversation (Yeah)
Max deals for Luka Dončić lobbin' to Ayton (Yeah)
Know, nowadays you can make a grip commentatin' (Yeah, now the mic is low now, turn the mics up some more)
If you master two skills: either dick ridin' or hatin' (Turn that shit all the way up, yeah)
Just look around, the hatin' and the dick ridin' is blatant
Tell Mama your ticket to finally live out of her basement
Was found in one magical word, and it's engagement (Uh-huh)
And nothing brings that like drama, you might wanna (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
Personally, I don't write comments, I write commas
Withdrawals, from pictures the pen draws, The Fall-Off
They wanna know if this is the end-all, be-all
To this rap game, he's trained in CPR (Clueminati)
I'm a whole new breed for those that wonder who he think he is
That thunder at night that wake up the sleepyheads
Just when you thought that your boy was completely dead
Boom, walked out that tomb like Matthew said that Jesus did
With the whole game on his shoulders, not even strainin' to hold it
I can spin it 'round my fingers and bowl it
When I write, it's like I'm guided by the angels, I noticed
It's like the ghost of Christopher Wallace had came in and wrote it
First name Jermaine, and it's goated
Never once has fame been the motive, far from it
Respect first, next up my net worth
The best verse belongs to the nigga that should live in the Bronx Zoo
I stomp through on some King Kong shit
Long ding-dong shit, pause
I rinsed off the sauce y'all got lost in
All this false flossin', dawg, it's exhaustin' right?
I hate these rappers like I'm Charleston White
Give arthritis to authors
It's hard to write as hard as the god does
Y'all toddlers to me, stop botherin' me
Young Simba, some niggas threw some hate my way
But only thing they should say is, "Cole, you like a father to me"
The top ain't really what I thought it would be
And so I jumped off and landed back at the bottom
And restarted at a level where I wasn't regarded as much
Just to climb past them again and tell 'em all to keep up
I love it
Truly, I'm agin' backwards
In the sandboxes, I play with trappers
The K's pop like Asian rappers
The bullets graze the Afros
Piercin' through front doors
And left holes in a baby mama's favorite bathrobe
Uh, thank God no one was home
I'm so in the zone
Might wake up at four in the mornin'
Start mowin' the lawn, discover the snakes
Pull up to your place and go in alone
Creep to your room, put four in your dome
If your girl scream, tell the queen, "Bitch, lower your tone"
Ay, matter of fact, go on your phone
Add me on IG
I used to be top seed
Apology dropped me way out of the top three
No problem, I'm probably my best when they doubt me
Watch me, watch me

[Outro: DJ Clue]
DJ Clue (Whoo Kid)
Desert Storm (DJ Clue)
J. Cole, ha
Hahahahahahaha
Hahahahahahaha