RePete - "5 AM" (5 AM In Toronto Remix) [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

16 Years old playing a deadly game
NY State set to detonate like Jesse James
They fed the flame when I extend my range
It's crazy that what makes you could set your wake to be arranged
These visions in my head are strange
5 AM I've been awake, sending rappers straight to Heaven's Gates
Yelling "Pete the name"
Lost the time I should have spent when
I forgot about my dreams, that's when
She forgot about all the things we would've been
I won't sing that last hook again
I lost control of everything, she was there but only in her crooked head
Chapters were all scripted out; we closed it when the book was read
I had to put that shit to bed and final words were never said
I tried to carve it on a stone and follow protocol
She was holding on, told her, "I don't want a phone call"
Still no emotions gone, I just wrote this song to say it's fucked up where you left me
And the truth was never spoke at all
They throw the bars around the one that cries wolf
And they feed the beast next to where the victim slowly dies
The rope was tied, they ain't even give me overtime
No disguise, look me in my eyes and say I ever told a lie
People judge by word of mouth and what they heard about
Never truly know the story 'till it's over and the curtains out
Trust no one in the world, learn it now
Cause it's kill or be killed, I suggest the murder route
The herb is loud so I burn it down
Purple clouds turn my frown , where I stay to earn my crown
The man was dying but you ain't heard a sound
You ain't even half a hundred like Curtis
Don't even face me, turn the fuck around
I had to make her leave , now it's pouring rain
Not because I miss her, but I can't forget the girl she was before she changed
I never asked to play part in this fucking game
Now I'm sitting at a window pane, with a pistol to my head
Like, why couldn't you just stay in your own lane
You fucking lying bitch, I tried for sixth months to make things work
You're crazy get a psychiatrist to prescribe a fix
The problem was that I turned things to gold like Musa did
You got the tendency to turn things to piles of shit
Tell me why I shouldn't fill this nine with rounds of clips
And leave you lifeless for putting my life at risk
Sparks flying like a car clocking mileage tireless
The coffin you can lie in it, six feet like Allen Iverson
It's nothing personal just like debt collecting from the IRS
I should get some gasoline, ski mask, a match, and strike this shit
Turning your entire crib to to the cite of an Al-Qaeda hit when piloting a fighter jet
If you were riding with an alliance of messiahs you still wouldn't survive that shit, so bring the choir in

[Outro]

It's 5 AM but my eyes open
My minds mayhem but somehow I'm focused
A ten in my bed is divine with lotion
Still the head I get don't supply the potion
Maybe this is god feeling that I did him wrong
Been a sinner my whole life look at the shit it caused
I sit in awe at the though of those prison bars
Hoping that you listen to this song and slit your wrist apart
(x2)