Перевод песни Ice T – O.G. Original Gangster
Работает на технологии Яндекс.Переводчика
Ten years ago I used to listen to rappers flow Talkin' bout the way they rocked the mic at the disco I liked how that shit was goin' down Dreamt about ripping the mic with my own sound So I tried to write rhymes something like them My boys said, «That ain't you, Ice! That shit sounds like them.» So I sat back, thought up a new track Didn't fantasize, kicked the pure facts Motherfuckers got scared cause they was unprepared Who would tell it how it really was? Who dared? A motherfucker from the West Coast, L. A South Central, fool, where the Crips and the Bloods play When I wrote about parties, it didn't fit «6 N' the Mornin,» that was the real shit O.G. Original Gangster When I wrote about parties, someone always died When I tried to write happy, yo, I knew I lied 'Cause, I lived a life of crime Why play ya blind? A simple look and anyone with two cents would know I'm A hardcore player from the streets Rapping bout hardcore topics over hardcore drum beats A little different than the average though Jet you through the fast lane, drop ya on death row Cause anybody who's been there knows that Life ain't so lovely on the blood-soaked fast track That invincible shit don't work Throw ya in a joint, you'll be coming out feet first So I blast the mic with my style Sometimes I'm ill and other times buckwild But the science is always there I'd be a true sucker if I acted like I didn't care I rap for brothers just like myself Dazed by the game in a quest for extreme wealth But I kick it to you hard and real One wrong move, and your cap's peeled I ain't no super hero, I ain't no Marvel comic But when it comes to game I'm atomic At dropping it straight, point blank and untwisted No imagination needed, cause I lived it This ain't no fucking joke, this shit is real to me I'm Ice-T, O. G [Hook} Two weeks ago I was out at the disco Two brothers stepped up to me and said, «Hey yo, Ice We don't think you're down. What set ya claiming?» E drew the Glock, yo my set's aiming! Dumb motherfucker, try to roll on me, please! I'm protected by a thousand emcees And hoodlums and hustlers and bangers with jheri curls We won't even count the girls Cause they got my back and I got theirs too Fight for the streets when I'm on Oprah or Donahue They try to sweat a nigga but they just didn't figure That my wit's as quick as a hair trigger «He's not your everyday-type prankster.» I'm Ice-T, the original gangster So step to me if you think that you're ready to Got on your bullet proof? Well mine's going right thru This ain't no game to me, it's hollow fame to me Without respect from streets, so I don't claim be The hardest motherfucker on earth Catch me slipping, I can't even get worked But I don't slip that often, there's a coffin Waiting for the brother who comes off soft when The real fucking shit goes down, take a look around All them pussies can be found They talk a mean fight but fight like hoes I'm from South Central, fool, where everything goes Snatch you out your car so fast you'll get whiplash Numbers on your rooftop for when the copters pass Gangbangers don't carry no switchblades Every kid's got a Tec 9 or a hand grenade Thirty-seven killed last week in a crack war Hostages tied up and shot in the liquor store Nobody gives a fuck «The children have to go to school!» Well, moms, good luck! Cause the shit's fucked up bad I use my pad and pen And my lyrics break out mad I try to write about fun and the good times But the pen yanks away and explodes and destroys the rhyme Maybe it's just cause of where I'm from L.A. (*bang!*) that was a shotgun!