Jayy Lee - Bars Over Bullshit [Final Round] [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Jayy Lee]
They tell me now's my chance to the change the world and take control
So I take my hand and fuck a fold, 'cuz I been told
That my flow's so cold, I'm shivering mics, and spitting that ice
No fronting I might, cut off their lights
Like Brockovich so fuck your lines
We're breaking industries, so up your rhymes or catch grenades
'cuz every bar I drop, sparks a thought and sets ablaze
The fucking track, so step up your verses
Suffer the forces, tougher than curse words
Upper the chuck, snuff your set and rest assured
I'm killing everything that's moving with a beat
So ask Eskupe if they're steady spitting
When I start to speak
'cuz I don't hesitate, while they're playing hide and seek
I'm standing front and center
Asking artists if they're tryna beef
I been about it, shoot a beat, and bet I'll ground it
6 ft deep by the time you found it
My sounds surrounded, type and see
It's Jayy Lee, to wisen the name, I do emcee
Counting down time 'til you mother fuckers RIP

[count down]

One for the real, two for the skills
Three for the artists I'm 'bout to kill
Still, add nine for those who didn't spill a line
Finalized the first round, no need to take it back
'cuz they lacking half the ill, I'm sick and that's a fact
I'm attacking tracks, just packing stacks
Relax with the steal, still real to the max
I battle ax, any artist with my smart ass, so don't ask
For hand outs, I'll stand out
'til the chords in my throat don't work no more
You toy with a verse, avoiding the worse
I'm wielding words 'til they all disperse
I spit reverse--rappers these fuck--(fuck these rappers)
I just coerce, so press your luck
I run a muck, chucking words 'til all you schmucks just double up
With a fucking punch, a masochist
Matching acid when I rap to this
A blasphemous mother fucker, in this catalyst
Is my catalog
Single drops with my gat sawed off
Popping shots 'til your top pops off
And it's mazel tov, topping off
'cuz trust me you gon' need it
Heated on the mic, conceited when I write
Might start fights when you look up right
My bars over heads, you stuck in limbo
Everything I said's just out the window