R.U.I.N. - Ph.D (Playing The Hand Dealt) [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

(Verse 1)
They on their Shania Twain, don’t impress me much/
Look stupid, like Presley in a blue suit and tux/
I’m built so strong yet so smooth, like a Mazda truck/
My only skill’s getting flukes, cause I mastered luck/
My mind tapped like oil reserves in Alberta/
Got nerve son? / to face machine gun flows with nerf guns?! /
Pew Pew/ the game is my property/ so I’m telling
All y’all dogs to get off my lawn, so shew shew/ don’t bother me/
Y’all Illusionsts, got your tricks, no real dudes/
Got punch Houdini in his kidney lines, they’ll kill you/
So just give me my whip and my cowboy hat/
Cause I’m about to spit, Indie—Anna Jones rap/
Spitting Christina Aguilera rhymes/ cause their
Beautiful, no matter what they say, every line/
Lyrically murderous Dexter, kill tracks in a dark room/
They Dexter too, but more like the Cartoon/

(Hook) (X2)
Ain’t here to Takeover or multiply/
Or mutate, but wait’s over, I’m playing this game/
Playing the hand I’m dealt, giving a try/
Ain’t nothing else, cause the dealer knows my own name/

(Verse 2)
If Ye’ could do “All falls down” and “Jesus Walks” /
Excuse me, if I go all balls out with Jesus talk/
So if No I.D. can scratch Resurrection/
Don’t mind me if I attach these verses to records/
Gold there is, rubies in abundance too but/
Lips that speak knowledge and wisdom are a rare jewel son/
Uni & Hiphop are good fit settle in/
Got this/ God blessed me with the 5th element/ knowledge/
When people talk to God it’s praying, but check it/
But when God talks to people you call them schizophrenic/
I’m out the ward, ready for Open Mic/ but when I
Stroke it right, it opens up for me, hope there’s
“Life/ after Death” but don’t pray hustler’s prayer, I pray
The Lord’s/ God gave me rebirth, I cut my own cord/
I found, once more/ these rappers flaw/ they got
Swag, not righteousness, I’m swag backwards ‘Gaws’/

(Hook) (X2)

(Verse 3)
Gotta hold down the block like a loose Lego piece/
Cause these lil’ kids stay high like a falsetto screech/
Violence pervades from the malls to the streets/
So I’m asking the Lord to lay me by a sweet meadow beach/
I say I need someone to beat on/ I just need someone
To lean on/ someone’s love to feed from/ to see my seed spawn/
But I sold my soul to God, won’t ask for a refund’ /
I refuse to be a tall tree trunk for these dogs to pee on! /
If I’m at my best when I’m a fighter, then I’ll never have peace/
But I’d rather spit truth than a clever ass tweet/
Y’all wanna-be revolutionary, but ain’t do shit/
Never tutored the kids/ or move food with crews off the skids/
All you do is make stupid excuses too quick/ til your
Train of intuitions go swift chew chew off lucid grids/
So about God’s people and the game, I got many cares/
Guess I gotta become the answer to my many prayers/

(Hook) (X2)