Перевод песни Bo Burnham – Bo' Fo' Sho'

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Walkin' my poodles, man it never gets old
With my dogs on my leash I got bitches on the hold
A first aids kit? That's a rhesus monkey
I bust more nuts than a pistachio junkie!
I get more ass than a giant donkey stable
I got more lines than Whitney Houston's coffee table
I get more head than grammar school lice
I'm like a walkin' glacier I'm so decked out with ice
Hey, Jesus loves you as long as you're white
Did you poop a virgin? cause that shit is tight
Hey, I'm blowin' up like I thought I would
I'm circumcised 'cause I don't come from the hood
Yo, I do drugs in the bedroom, lie on your back
Cause I got the pipe and you got the crack
Though I'm sexually straight, you're bound to find
I'm mentally gay, cause I'll blow your mind, ma'am
Yo, the parents be snickerin', «He shouldn't have written it»
But I'm constipated, couldn't give a shit
What, motherfucker?
What, yo Yeah, this kid's a virgin
My name is Bo My name is Bo fo sho
A born Bostonian
Aryan librarian at the wordsmith-sonian
The rap is scattered, it hides its ingenuity
I gave it this little part to give it continuity
Uh, fuckin' feel it yeah
Yo, huh? Where are we? Yeah
And the fellas say
Hey moron pass the gin
Cause I'm an ozymoron breathing oxygen
Give me the bottle, I'll chug two-thirds
'Cause you bitches know fractions speak louder than words
And the ladies say
Hey fellas I'm keepin it tight, and if you play your cards right you can have
me tonight
Should I blow you or beat you, brass or percussion?
Oh, stop, period, end of discussion
Yo, my name is Bo fo sho
A born Bostonian
Aryan librarian at the wordsmith-sonian
The rap is scattered, it hides its ingenuity
I gave it this little part to give it continuity
Walking through the garden, food at my feet, picked up the celery but dropped
the beet
Yeah
And then I picked it up, and it-
There's music, it gets faster
Alright, let's end this
We're in the hood, I'll take what you give me Was Einstein's theory good, relatively
A smart queen's kingdom, it doesn't mix
A litter of literates, a bunch of Moby Dicks
«Get thee to a punnery» oh, just Ophelia
Take you with a condom, stainless steel ya Half a pound of turkey breast, half a pound of chicken tits
Why are only crackers staying at the Ritz?
Poverty, racism, isn't it strange
That only the homeless are beggin for change?
I shocked Sherlock
What, son?
Rosa Parks didn't call «shotgun!»
Here's a little bit of irony
A Ford Focus driver has ADD
How'd I come to master all these things?
Like a tampon thief, I had to pull some strings