Pharrell Williams - Music For The Gangstas [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Intro: Pharrell Williams/DJ Drama]
The yellows is real
The whites is clean, y'know what I'm sayin'?
The blues is monster, I mean it's...
The Laffy Taffy chain, haha y'know what I'm sayin'?
When I rock it, start laughin'

In My Mind's coming soon
But in the meantime we have some other shit to handle
Skateboard P been paying a lot of dues
And I don't know if y'all niggas been paying attention
Well if not, this is what I'mma do for 'em
DJ Drama, AMG

This that music for the gangsta

Star Trak
Ill

[Verse 1: Pharrell Williams]
This that music for the most realest
Blow dealers who by the way I most feel us
Surrounded by gold rillas
Yeah, it's Skateboard
Open trap or die
From Virginia AKA...
It's Skateboard
Open trap or die
It's Skateboard
Open trap or die
This that music for the most realest
Blow dealers who by the way I most feel us
Surrounded by gold rillas, yeah
It's Skateboard
Open trap or die
From Virginia AKA Hustler's Paradise
But don't get it twisted they be kidnappin' guys
Caught you slippin' your fault, the un-mastered eye
The only mathematic, is drug traffa-ic
Get it cook it cut it, nigga then wrap it quick
Get yourself a white one get your man a matching six
The white is calling "Hip-hop", but they can't rap or lick
Niggas tryna case 'em, the Feds is tryna chase 'em
But they got it all designed like the mind of a Mason
Fresh Ice Creams I know you ain't plan to fall
Turn that white tee red like Santa Claus
It's almost sacrilegious, the way they practice business
We call it package-risen the way that drug wakes up the dead
Just for sports cars, lipstick red
On chrome deep dishes, the face of the rim is red like sweetest fishes
Put the car and the rims together and get the sweetest kisses
Clear your head for a second, leave the weed restricted
I know you think I'm rappin' fly but I know niggas that rap and fly
Why, I rap in fly jets bangin' that trap or die
I'm a great rapper, right?

[Verse 2: Young Dro]
Young Dro, check it
Young Dro, aye

[Verse 3: T.I.]
You can keep the baking soda, ain't no need for that
Cook crack money fast, off-white money long