J-Alta - How Much Fire [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

(Verse 1: J-Alta)
I'm just ego tripping, and I'm kilo spitting
Passing up these opportunities like free throw missing
Where I’m from all we got is drama, marijuana
Before she was the drinking age, she a baby mama
And his hoop dreams turned in to the court with your honor
Maybe it’s just karma, uh well all I know is that
Birthed these flows, and now the verse so cold
That outside the studio gotta keep a hearse on hold
If there’s a rapper that’s better you gotta show me
Watch him pen his retirement letter like he Kobe
I’m just saying better watch it ‘for you bring the old me
The one that had nothing to lose, and everything to prove
In high school, all the cool, said don’t follow the rules
Was it a tool, cause minorities now looking like fools
Our lunch tables, was jokes, hoes, clothes, those conversations
While whites were graduation and these college applications, uh
Maybe we should be analyzing our circle
Simple mindstates will hurt you, or even worse murk you

(Verse 2: J-Alta)
How much heat is needed to just to prove that it's fire
How much designer is it needed just to prove that I'm flyer
I know money ain't the answer but it got me defensive
Cause if time heals rather rock a watch that's expensive
Listen, evading shade and my future got brighter
Though the circle got smaller the team only got tighter
Took some time to myself, I'm just tryna get better
That timeout was crucial and I ain't talking Chris Webber
I would study MCs
The way young hoopers studied Reggie Millers 3s
Seeing all these ads like be all you can be
And so the flow caught the wave, bars are military grade, battle? Cemeteries made
Hold up, voices in my head saying let go
Calls from these student loans yet I'm worried bout flows
It's rent , food , or studio only two is afforded
So before you ask which, just know this got recorded
Mind going insane, imagination is lit
If there were pennies for my thoughts id already be rich

(Verse 3: J-Alta)
Small town kid with these big city dreams
I would envy all of those with those big city things
All the chances we never had, cars we never seen
The bitches we’d never bag, the stars all on the scene
I’m looking at TV, like, maybe just one day
Fuck it’s gon happen I’ma figure out someway
So it’s, middle fingers to all of the non-believers
Won’t be an underachiever, this the product of a dreamer
And the flow is aquafina, these rappers are washed
So I’ma take em out the cleaners, just to show I can floss
I would rather bag a Trina than another subpoena
Rather trade this Honda in for a beamer, whip me something that’s meaner