Lunar C - StillSkint [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Hook]
It's the adventures of Rumple
Still SkinNnNnnt
I sold my soul to the devil but I'm
Still SkinNnNnnt
I work 5 days a week but I'm
Still SkinNnNnnt
I'm ripping off the taxman but I'm
Still SkinNnNnnt

[Verse 1]
It's rumple stillskint
I chug a keg of whisky with a hundred pills in
Fall asleep and mumble ill things
Cussin like your uncles children
I hot box a dog kennel mashed with a heap of weed and crack
I'm so big headed I stand on stage and ask if I even need to rap
Being the baddest to me, is an easy task
I flow like the blood of a vascular haemophiliac
I don't fight fair
I spark a cripple and punch a toddler out of its high chair cos I write my lines there
I'm so aggy even I'm scared
My mind's bare fucked up, my day dreams are nightmares
Why the fuck should I care
What you wack rhymers'll think
If I'm pissed up rockin a ripped tux and a black tie when I'm skint
Trying to act like I'm a pimp
Walking two steps in front of a bitch with a black eye and a limp
Crabs, lice, fat thighs, backside and a squint
Grim
When they tried to Christen me I managed to squirt terps
Pulled a zippo out of my nappy and watched the church burn
By my third birthday I knew I was a pervert
Crawling under birds skirts and snorting up my sherbert
I made this verse meditating in the cave
Hidden from a biter so it's wrote in sanscrit
You know I'm sick from the cradle to the grave
Cos I jumped from a moses basket and chobbed in an open casket
You rappers got me bored like Satan with the same code of practice as a Roman Catholic
Catch a swollen fat lip if you don't react quick

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Since I was a chubby pipsqueak as young as 6 I was hate driven
All the other kids mothers didn't let me play with em
Once I gripped a felt tip and coloured in a shaved kitten
That's true, on my grandma's life I ain't shitting
I'm the product of growin up on the dole in great britian council estate living
Under aged drinking, cocaine sniffing
Gettin blazed pillin off my face tripping
Every page written stems from a flashback or a vague vision of when I was takin em
You can't see how my plague stricken brain's ticking
So my main mission stays hidden
I'm a straight killin crazed villain necking 'steds and eating fast till my cape's ripping
When I'm vexed I wield an axe and roam the wretched streets of Bradford and chase women
I'm a necrophiliac, I've been grave digging, spade dripping aids ridden blood from my rape victims

[Hook]