K.M.D. - What a Niggy Know? (Remix) [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Lazy nigga!

[Hook]
I saw the thunder and heard the lightning
And felt the burden of his shame
(Repeat x2)

[Zev Love X]
Check, sup do
Yeah, check it out check it out
Check it, buss it, peep it, check it
I'm on the low like a sneaky ass (white) nigga
X the unseen comin' like the night nigga
So start panicking I'mma crack this Heinekin
Suckas is froze like mannequin so no shenanigan, bucko
I'm rugged like stone face to stucco
So fuck it! The mic is in my knuckles so I keeps my fist full of profits
My grip is on my pistol in pocket
Niggas be blowin' but be annoyin' like whistle rockets
This one goes out to all you suckas: you don't know me
I never O.D. on my diet of codeine and OE
X embezzling fat checks and cash is okay
Fucking with the system like a rash but I don't say out loud
I read my hit list while I check shit
A nigga never lived to hear me diss him on no record
The month's up
I watched the pussy bleed for seven days
The body autopsy said he was killed in seven ways
Nowadays tell me what lady don't get it
Listen to BLS you just might catch radio edit
I got the good news so watch the happy story end like
Colin Ferguson or Jack Kavorkian and you don't quit

[Hook]

[MF Grimm]
(Sittin on the train like half past midnight)
Who will survive in World War Three? (None!)
Who got a style that come close to me? (None!)
Niggas screamin battle who steps to me? (None!)
To all you fakers, it's time to meet your maker
Raps incarceration of a threat to population
Blowing MCs in a yardless, heartless center isolation raise a rattle
With recreational mental meditation
World War Three, it's me
So man your battle station
The reaper lyrics are way beyond the limits of human endurance (Yeah!)
The rapper called star shot down for insurance (Bang!)
I keep the ugly rhymes in the celler of my cranium
Where no one can see them or hear cries for freedom
Chopped up raw thoughts the only thing I feed 'em
Release the beats from the celler when I need 'em
Dwell underground like C.H.U.D., love letters
Wrinkled paper bags, ink and blood
I gotta slay ways of jealous I defeat
Dodge bullets blue sparks flowin off the fuckin concrete
Even if it's not your beef you are stressed cause bullets go homeless
And homeless need a place to rest
So where's your heaven and hell G?
Because your Marcus Wellby will not be able to sew
That hole in your chest and back
Often looks like a car, it's kitted
Piped and tinted, and also painted triple black (Ding!)
Sad songs to your saviour to sacrifice your soul to prayers failed (Sorry)
Cause God moved like a snail so death prevails
Your deader than a doornail
Lips blue, skin pale, all hail GRIMM!

[Hook]