SC Static & Zoo - Unorthodox [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Unorthodox Lyrics

(Zoo’s Verse)

The pen’s a magic wand and I’m the wizard
One phone call will turn a drought into a blizzard
That’s a fact, that’s a motherfucking promise
Brace yourself, no need for an orthodontist
I’m an artist alcoholic like Jackson Pollock
My flow’s straight brolic as my lyrics remain so symbolic
Yankees hat tucked down over my face
It’s like my dreams stole my wallet so their gonna get chased
Ayo its Zoo (YoYooo) Z to the double O
Got MC’s in the street screaming damn we in trouble yo
Style is raw dope, cut straight off the brick
Stole money from your whole clique
Made off (Madoff) with it
You’re all brawn and no brain, muscles with no cranium
Get a cement casket, Hoffa in Giants stadium
My brain’s more corrupt than J Edgar Hoover
You’ll get lost in it, yeah like the Triangle of Bermuda

(Chorus)

Cause I ain’t ever had Glock 9
All’s I got’s a sharp mind, a pen, pad, and hot rhymes
I’m getting used to the cop sirens
Getting used to the drug use, used to the high crime
I’m from the hills where the pills and the pot thrive
Now I’m in the boroughs where there’s bullet holes in stop signs
Tomorrow ain’t promised in our lives
That’s why I put my heart and soul in my lyrics when I jot lines

(Static’s Verse)

Unorthodox, how they place us in these awkward spots
Living real life nightmares with awful plots
Young adults can’t get off the blocks
Their only influence is ignorance and that’s why they resort to Glocks
The street’s harder then a coffee pot
Kids carry around guns still waiting for their balls to drop
Cause they ain’t old enough to call the shots
Cause they wanna be like the villians in the movies that they saw and watched
Are we protected by the laws or not?
Cause it’s an empty promise for the minorities when they call the cops
Troubled teens smoking more then pot
Cause they get offered help way less often then they get offered rocks
Unorthodox, how these rappers’ getting all the props
Claim to be the best but up to par is what their bars and not
Static’s spittin’ till the rawness stops
And Imma rep that real hip hop till my coffin drops

(Chorus x2)

Cause I ain’t ever had Glock 9
All’s I got’s a sharp mind, a pen, pad, and hot rhymes
I’m getting used to the cop sirens
Getting used to the drug use, used to the high crime
I’m from the hills where the pills and the pot thrive
Now I’m in the boroughs where there’s bullet holes in stop signs
Tomorrow ain’t promised in our lives
That’s why I put my heart and soul in my lyrics when I jot lines