SB IV SHORT - YOLK [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Intro:]
YO YO.. (YOLK)
Shoutouts my nigga Gwap (YOLK)
He's recording and shit..
Uhh huh (YOLK)

[Verse 1:]
YO.. Crack Crack
Throw eggs at 'em that's.. (YOLK)
Watch 'em crack in half
What do you you have ? (YOLK)
Subtract then you add, just follow the math bro..
I know you thought that I was 'bout to say.. (YOLK)
Folk tales and folks smells under the Oaths
Cracked bells and Crack sells, liberal hopes
Watch 'dem hoes fall
I throw it and burn the rope
Niggas thinkin' they sea me ?
I throw 'em under the boat
Sailor mouth talkin' 'bout shit ya' inner thoughts would doubt
Back it up, spit it out
Fry 'em at the Waffle House
Get 'em off the grill
I'm ill, fucking sickle cell
Toss his ass the bill
I'm hotter than Brazil with cold chills
It's gettin' real
So my nigga tellin' me to get a record deal
Now how the fuck Am I supposed to feel ?
When niggas would rather listen to lyrics with gimmicks
That ain't vivid to their own memories
Secretly you fucking hate me but you say you're feeling me
MOVE ! I don't spare time for frienemines
That's okay, it's RAT poison in that YOLK
Bite my fucking rhymes you find time and choke
Now this is where the bitches come in that didn't show up
Swearing that they know us
Soon as we fucking blow up
Dope body, her curves swerve like Coca Cola
MOVE BITCH YOU SEE I GOT THE WORLD ON MY SHOULDERS !
Never had A's or B's or a Diploma
That's why I like D's on my girl when I hold her
It's okay, I'll let her cry
If I die
Will I fry ?
I can see my fucking semen in her eyes
Talkin' 'bout my child, my boy, my ONLY son
Will I pull out when I cum ?
When I see the demons coming will I fuckin' run ?
Or will I sit 'em down and pour 'em up a glass of Rum ?
Question.. Who Am I to you ?
And What Am I to me ?
Its simple, look in my eyes and you can see
Hypocritical Christians probably wouldn't agree
I did more Holy shit than GOLD on Mr. T
Shake 'em off, give 'em HELL
As I'm spitting shells
Egging on the Mossberg shottie my tongue dealt
Gave her wet dreams
Supplying a wishing well
It's all because of verbs and words she couldn't spell
That's okay, its MAC products in that YOLK
Rub it on ya' face and swallow it down ya' throat
Tell me how it tastes then go and grab the remote
So I can flick the channels while flicking this fucking roach
I don't brag much 'bout money, clothes, and hoes
But I can nag on 'bout fags, foes, and goals
Niggas worship brands while struggling on Parole
That's pity in their souls
No motives or self control
(WHOOOAAAAAAA)
This nigga dropping bombs B
Old folks hear it, my rhymes just fucking fine C ?
Alphabetic disorder, you niggas so behind G
You can find Waldo but you niggas can't define me !
Iced on ya' ass, get masked the way my lines ski
Stick 'em up, rob 'em at the counter
Go and pick some flowers for a half an hour
For his funeral I sniff the powder
9/11 bomb shit I split the fucking towers (BOOOOOOOOMMMMMM)


[Hook:]
Inhale and exhale the smoke
Watch niggas crack, that's the YOLK
Lying 'bout financial bank statements but you're broke
No bank accounts or large amounts
To me you're just a joke
And it ain't even April yet
So why you niggas claimin' checks that you couldn't get if you had bullets and tainted Tecs ?
You ain't robbers you slobbers that analyze the Mobsters
So spittin' lies the only ties to emphasize ya' posture