Jay Young - Bring Ya 'A' Game [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1]
Cruising in my ride, on Highway 99
Grizzly City Boy, that's on the West Side
I'm from the West Coast, that's where I get my toast
Golden State or Gangland, whatever floats your boat
I live in Central Cali, the belly of the beast
The San Joaquin Valley is where I have my feast
Uh, indismissible pinnacle, but I'm critical
And everything you say is hypothetical
I'm always cynical when it comes to things you do
Cuz what you claim original is really nothing new
You claim to be the best, but you have no evidence
You only have dick-riders who double as your friends
So if you got beef, come at me, say it in my face
For Chris' sake, he better hope I leave him in a daze

[Hook]
Too many blueprints, not enough architects (3X)
Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess

[Verse 2]
Every bar's a mess, rhyme hasn't started yet
Joe Budden's the reason I called this The Architect
Cuz I'm expanding and I'm tryna build my legacy
Welcome to my house like I'm tryna sign with Shady
That could be the Aftermath of my work
Or it could be my downfall and cover me with dirt
Ain't no way to tell if it would help me or it would hurt
Only one way to find out, that's to put in work
So I'm on a hustle like, I'm on a hunger strike
I'm packing lead like I'm off to go to war tonight
All you sharks in the water, I know you love to bite
So when you take the bait, I'll cut you open with my knife

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
I'm in the game, you just a lame
Ill leave you slain
Novocaine for the pain
It's all the same
You get the feeling of Death cuz I'm a mercenary
I've been murking these verses cuz of the perks they carry
It's like a curse I carry, you claim to own the game
But I'll steal it back and give it the truth like a missionary
And it started with, tryna cope with loneliness
I looked up to the veterans and told them "Watch me spit!"
They thought I was legit, they wanted more of this
So they passed the mic to Young, this is how it went
I'm going for the long pass, the veterans passed the mic
The booth is freezing up, I see the build up of ice
Cuz see, I spit cold game cuz I came from cold streets
That's why in my younger days, I would pack me some cold heat
A product of my environment like the Jim Jones album
Never seen a warm day, that's why I drop cold sound
Listen, I could have ended up like a lot of cold figures
Hold triggers, dope dealer, become another hood figure, but nah
I picked up a mic and I'mma be a rap hero
So forget 30 degrees, I spit 270 below zero
Ya dig?

[Hook] (3X)