Перевод песни Poison Pen – Inner City Hoodlum
Работает на технологии Яндекс.Переводчика
Looking at the city, we’re all in trouble again With no sense of direction ‘til you gave my heart a home Brothers got bills to pay So it don’t matter who’s getting drilled or slayed Whoever get in my way, for real, bastard Must want to play real like Fear Factor Ain’t got two nickels to rub together But I’ll make it look good, make it look hood My Beretta’s for my protection for the most part I’ll murk something ‘fore it’s close to my heart Don’t take this kindness for weakness. On a good weekend We could trade this rhyming for a beating That’s the ghetto in me speaking Sunset Park childhood, Bed Stuy living Think I’m too wild? Good. Pull your breasts out, women Looking at the city, we’re all in trouble again With no sense of direction ‘til you gave my heart a home I’ve never sold crack. Get it through your head I ain’t never been a pimp. Yo, get a grip And I don’t smoke weed. It don’t mean I’m a thug just ‘cause you pussy We don’t get intimidated easily. I’m not concerned With what y’all do. It’s simple as that I’ll go down as a Bed Stuy deity. If you was gangster Them bullet wounds wouldn’t have been in your back I live by the hood rules: that’s: respect, honesty, and loyalty And I’ll brawl like there’s four of me—I win ‘Cause, for one, if I lose, I’ma beat that ass And, for two, if I lose, I’ma beat that ass Looking at the city, we’re all in trouble again With no sense of direction ‘til you gave my heart a home Donald Goines kept me afloat Inner city hoodlum, I notice bars Like Johnny Washington, Plus I roll with whores on the dirt No wonder I paint war with words I’m an N.A. Rock star. Feel us? Rock a show, rock a crowd Rock a shorty’s legs like earmuffs And some are large and stupid Get to my door, collapse outside Right where mail, knocked out, my stupor But I’m safe ‘cause I practiced hood love, junior Bust a gat, would have my hero and Lucies And know if you ain’t got it So I’m good on my block. I feel sorry for intruders Looking at the city, we’re all in trouble again With no sense of direction ‘til you gave my heart a home Molotov Cock, man., Brooklon bullies spitting from Cali, man. Emvees. , holler at your boy Looking at the city through Versace shades Where all the trouble began, with no Sense of direction. Thinking introspective Be book-smart, know your weapons And nice with your hands. Used to slapbox ‘til my nose was all Bloody and crusty, fighting my mans Hated our whole situation, played the street all night Who cancelled your subscription to the magazine called «LIFE»? Cross my path, baby. You know the rest Left better, fool, and get your head on too We make disciples out of y’all in doubt City slicker, Aurora Borealis mouth Looking at the city, we’re all in trouble again With no sense of direction ‘til you gave my heart a home