KenSon (formerly Emmo the kid) - The Coldest [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1]
Control vocal tones like a television remote
And tie you in a knot like a couple when they elope
Walk on water, stepping out the speedboat
People of lesser skill hope to be an equal
Slang what was written like the block flooded with that new crack
Girl Scout Cookies concoction push your food back
Suckers can’t ingest. Lack of progression
Like the effects of incest having them stressin’
So the strong survive and not just physical strength
Cuz cosmos stretch deeper than visible length
And that’s word, expression of a previous thought
Enact a mad scientist with my devious plot
Expose foes for fake when I’m breaking them down
Slit the throat of your king and I’m taking the crown
My kin cheers for the speech like I’m making ‘em proud
Bass rattling your floorboards shaking the sound

[Verse 2]
Know the talent or try to deny
Until there’s nobody to blame, nowhere you can hide
Got em mad like they couldn’t get none at a brothel
If you don’t get head who among you the honcho
Kids try to diss but they battling wrong
And OGs know I won’t quit cause I’ve been at it too long
These bars are electric, eclectic endeavors and effort
Create profitable investment
Pressure only prophesies future blessings
Can’t be held in like after school detention
Freaks for the camera only say yes and
Want to be seen living in their excess and
Showing off their ass and flashing them breasts
A whole lot of exposure for an average check
A maximum of attention but a lack of respect
You better check yourself before your rep is damaged and wrecked

[Verse 3]
Stepping up the game like the ladder to heaven
My pen’s a knife, always down to brandish a weapon
End your life without a chance at redemption
Blowing smoke, getting humped like a camel convention
Cause the world’s too sleazy
Some of these girls too easy but I’ll merk you freely
Check the skills of an emcee on his diligence
Capitalize on all chances and privileges
Hot like Megan Fox was in transformers
Burn your catalog, turn your tapes to hand warmers
Fakers want to fight but they haven’t touched quota
Punch them in the stomach make them taste their lunch ova’
Bad to the bone like osteoporosis
Burn lungs like silicovolcanoconiosis
From the shit that I’m smoking but it’s always herb
I’m like a mother fucking waiter cause I always serve
Nigga!