OG Hindu Kush - Grey Alien Suits [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1 - Loe Pesci & Osa]

Only thing I got for bitches is hard cock and amnesia
She blew for the white dot (blue with the white dot) like Bartholomew's sneakers
Your girl humping my leg? Now you cockblocking my femur
Yeah you see her - she lying - you do not gotta believe her
Cause she got prominent features: a whole lot in her t-shirt
Look so hot in some sneakers, cold rocking Adidas
Poke, gargle and queef her, you know the type that rolls with
Provocative leeches that's blow-jobbin' your peoples
While saying her tits are real...but pardon? I see the scarring
And post-operative features. You hoes not gonna see us
If me and Osa was reaching, the mic we Quahoggin like Peter hosting with Cleveland
Just play it low like hard bottoms and cellos, Jordan V's is my retros
Joyriding the metro, we skippin' steps
Like bar-hopping with streakers, chart topping with demos
God honest, I said so, god-body your reefer
And since only five percent of y'all cop proper sativa
Ain't got five on it either, went bankrupt for the leisure
Since we invested in the Bob Marley center for research
For you, she uptight, shouldn't be gossiping either
You got a problem? - Oughtta talk to ya leaders, pop locking with creatures
Watch ya body parts frost in our freezer
It ain't the type of flick that your box office would feature
We picking pockets, cross-walking with seniors
Take aim at the youth cause small coffins is cheaper

[Hook]
Shit ain't changed since the days of the stoop
And the labels ain't pay to recoup
Since we spent our advance paper and loot - on Grey Alien Suits
And tricked NASA into making the space station a booth (x2)

[Verse 2 - Loe Pesci & Osa]
Stay caged in a zoo, ball hog with the cleaver
Stay sharp on the court, play par for the course
Got an arsenal for war like there's Spartans at your door
So while death's at your back, we stay stalking the reaper
It's out the ball park to the bleachers
We teach em how to pull cards like Hallmark workers at Easter, son
Seizures can happen if we keep on rapping
It's not proper procedure to talk back to us either
Knock knock, let's see if his snot-box is a bleeder
Cause you dripping, I ain't missing no hot sauce in my Caesar
Managed by Richard Branson, we surf the Atlantic
Feeding the poor and famished while planning tours to your planet
Merge with Virgin Galactic, photon your whole song
Traveled back in time and gave birth to this rap shit
Foolproof Moon Boots, Bluetooth goon crew
George Lucas storm-troopers all useless, who you?
We shit on earth, so by liftoff we half as light
We orbit in space, playing skip rock with satellites
I'm asking nice, no mask and knife
Don't make us turn your puny planet's afterparties to disaster sites

[Hook]

[Verse 3 - Loe Pesci & Osa]

Spraypaintin ya roof, then i vacate the Duluth
Whole clique yelling shieeeett like Clay Davis' crew
If lyrics come after beats, we stack paper for Boots
So go 'head, keep claiming y'all fake statements is truth
It's back to the basics, milk crates full of tunes
Stay caving ya roof, make craters and souffle- you haters is through
Our tours are live as a vacay with The Roots
So if you catch us at a show, we hi-hater your crew
Bye, later, get lost
Why hate on our flaws? Cause we fly greater than you?
Use skyscrapers as shoes? My estate's in space
So from the tri-state to the blind face of the moon
We high raising the roof, if you rhyme great as my crew
We buy spaceships in two's, yo my spaceship's a coupe
And mine's spacious and huge - got five acres of room
You should try bathe in a pool with some primates in a zoo
Rocketman backpacks, we got that like school's in session
Our tools and weapons is ski masks for 2-11s
Three channel booster engine, pre-amps, for tube compression
So lean back and leave flat like two dimensions
Can't work the boards? We give freelance computer lessons
Remix ya cheap hits and revamp the booth you step in
Mortgage ya storage and Re/Max the room you rentin'
C-Span for supervillains, recap the news at seven

[Hook]