Rick Rikard - Thirty-Two [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Go 'head and grip Glocks, I lick off shots like hip-hop
Step to me I'll leave your blood clot like highway grid lock
Forget your crew, rollin' deep, you motherfuckers can't faze me
You can't even see me like a ghost, I'm Swayze
You lazy motherfuckers don't got what it takes
I spit at the mic and watch your pearly whites shake
Disentigrate mics, like throwin' acid at your damn face
And keep the smoke rollin', holdin' you hostage for my papes
Like Bad Boy studios, release the best tapes
And burn down all your beliefs, for an atheist sake
Wake up, it's time for breakfast, green and cheese
Everyday I eat at least, three wack MC's
So please, if you sneeze, just blame it on me
Cause I'm the sickest motherfucker, no cure for my disease
I stagger on the streets, leavin' trails of rhymes
Lickin' off shots like Pac before he did his jail time
So when you hear my name, disrespect if you persist
Like Technique, the wrong motherfucker to diss
I spit straight at your dome, hopin' that somethin' sticks
Or let your mind hang to the floor like a prostitute's tits
The pen is mighter than a sword, so I wrote your eulogy
It's called every song I've made, can't compare you and me
So what can you do to me? Nothing, know what I mean?
Cause on a song I do more lines than Charlie Sheen
So creep with me, as I crawl through the ghetto
Leavin' motherfuckers jaws lookin' like Jay Leno
And only those with IQs higher than average
Can understand my rhymes, otherwise they pass it
So before you criticize, take a look at yourself
Cause at least I'm not living like I'm somebody else
And take a hint, cause I'm not like all these other youth stars
It takes a real motherfucker to spit 32 bars, Rick Rikard