Brotha Lynch Hung — Paroles et traduction des paroles de la chanson On My Brief Case
La page contient les paroles et la traduction française de la chanson « On My Brief Case » de Brotha Lynch Hung.
Paroles
Now on my briefcase was some crumbled weed
A pack of Saravegas and a 24 ounce O.E.
Might as well skeez these couple of hoes
In my 69 Malibu sittin' on trues and vogues
For days you might have seen me in my cinnamon cut chrome shoes
With some you can’t see me tint on the windows Indo syndrome
Smokin' it up, not givin' a muthafuckin' fizuck
Sold the cut, my ex-hoe said that nigga’s sqautin' what?
Got at the homie Carl, and got some of that bomb
Had me so fuckin' high I got off like Vietnam
Dead bodies and bitches clits simmerin' in the crock pot
And the shit don’t stop until my muthafuckin' chronic or high drop
It’s just that insane type of thang, let the Mac rain guts in the drain
Siccmade niggas they make the world go round
And if you fuck with Siccmade Music you can get your ass gunned down
(Phonk Beta):
I had a homie who stayed up in Alaska, used to transfer flights over Nebraska
And flew me back about a ounce of that Alaska Indica weed
And out of the whole zip possessed one seed
Had it wrapped real tight all up in cellophane
Can’t have the K-9 dogs smell it, man
If only you saw what I was seein', the buds was almost pure white, not green
Had to be one of those one hitter quitter dome splitters
That’s the type a tweed that makes you wanna fuck your baby-sitter
I roll a fattie, when I roll this fattie
Niggas’ll be all noid wonderin' why they lookin at me Bitches have the nerve to say my shit ain’t bomb
But it’ll have your lungs burnin', like your puffin' on napalm
(Zagg):
I wipe that sweat up off my forehead, I’m off the cusche
Lay back and take a comfortable hit, with a Q-tip, it’s splittin' my lips
And my dome stays split off toothpicks
I hit a lick with a quickness, dumpin' dead bodies in ditches
Appreciate the fact, come correct, cuz I could be vicious
Suspicion, comin' up on recognition I’m creepin' up from behind
With a 12 gauge, non-fiction, I’m all prepared to go for mine
So step in line, a couple of hits, dome split, I be lit on a for real base
With a machete I’ll slice your neck just like them Jason cases
Murder traces, but I ain’t pinned cuz there’s no evidence
Slight scent of that purple cusche plant, and I can almost sense the essence
What’s the lesson? Get tested, don’t come if you can’t come correct
It’s that West Coast shit for life I don’t know what you expected
I’m reckless, nevertheless I’m a pimp in a bulletproof vest
Puttin' it down, pound for pound, you need to take a step down
50 caliber rounds, I’m runnin' through your whole town
Buckin' em down like Doom set on deathmatch with the BFG-9000 cartoon
Traduction des paroles
Avec un calibre 12, non-fiction, je suis prêt à aller pour le mien
Donc, faites la queue, quelques coups, dôme split, je suis allumé sur une base réelle
Avec une machette je te trancherai le cou comme eux Jason cases
Des traces de meurtre, mais je ne suis pas épinglé parce qu'il n'y a aucune preuve
Légère odeur de cette plante cusche pourpre, et je peux presque sentir l'essence
Quelle est la leçon? Faites-vous tester, ne venez pas si vous ne pouvez pas venir correctement
C'est cette merde de la côte ouest pour la vie Je ne sais pas ce que vous attendiez
Je suis téméraire, néanmoins je suis un proxénète dans un gilet pare-balles
Puttin ' it down, livre pour livre, vous devez prendre un pas vers le bas
50 balles de calibre, Je cours dans toute ta ville
Buckin ' em Down comme Doom set sur deathmatch avec le dessin animé BFG-9000