Max Clique - Rising [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Sportsman

[Verse 1: Great Scott!]
This about my process, less about my project
Greatest rapper ever, and I ain't even died yet
Changed the whole world, I ain't even tried yet
How high can I get?
Real men shine make the fake brothers side step
Do this for the nobodies writin' in the projects
Michelangelo painting God in the building
Mic like his paint brush
Slaves in the ceiling
Brothers in their trance
Waste time always grilling
No catching feelings
He ain't see our mothers cryin'
Show no love for our children
The will to live was gone and never taught nothing
Just white girl and chrome
26 inches and poverty in our homes
Blitzing the club with no property owned
...that's why you are not my equal
You did this for the threesome
I'm out here rapping for the people
MaxClique shit, there ain't no sequel
Until the bubble pop
These kids need love and the loveless Glocks
A little less Ross and a lot more Pac
A lot more Malcolm
You don't see the pain then you are not about them
How do you please God while there's kids out here grinding?
Stand up, pass y'all
Fools be reclining
Max Clique gold words shine like diamonds
Can we please remind them?

[Hook 2x: Henry McCoy]
We fall to get up
We rise to live for
MaxClique coming
Never did give up
Hiatus to hate us
Fuel every move
I'm falling to the sky
Don't get it confused

[Verse 2: Langston Thoreau]
I dream to fly on the sunniest of days
When I close my eyes and remember your face
Remember that face, a place where
I heard my heart tear
My eyes tear like old men on high chair
Who once ruled the world from the sky, yeah
My mind wanders, my mind ponders
My mind wanders, my mind ponders
My appearance was arrogant
I flew outside my head just to get some errant shit
Everything I think was everything I thought
Flying solo missions, picture getting caught
The only things I bought, I couldn't take with me
Speaking gibberish in a diaper when I'm sixty
I'm filthy, like the South in the 50's
Like a white boy with a hair piece
Like a black touch with a six piece
Hate me when I'm here
Dead and gone, then confess to miss me
Sometimes life hits me, I stop to take it in
But the realest dark clouds are misty
Is he a man or a god or a peasant?
Where I'm heading, follow me
Reach for god, never said it
Be easy, be easy...
Most of these problems is beneath me

[Hook]