Papuan and the cook close up Pushkin
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Petushnik, junkie, descendant of alcoholics -
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You never bent your neck to anyone
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I adopted you, but I was a useless father
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It just so happened - cherries ripened in the garden
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Small, draw or sing, or like a bull to the slaughter
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Otherwise, longing, need and hard drinking will come for you
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And you tried (thank you Jews)...
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Repeat soon: Russia. |
Summer. |
Lorelei
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You didn't wear a livery - stop the whim, fool
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Hey, listen, producer, you're just a faggot!
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And now you have grown up, the whole country is your kliros
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Ear, knight - girls, marvel!
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A field of songs, and an ear reaches for the sun -
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Tickles, pricks you with a pike in the abdominal cavity
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Dmitry Gerashchenko (GROT):
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Meeting place can not be Changed -
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While waiting for the doors to open, I was utterly cold
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Someone came out of the entrance, launching us inside
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The evening Omsk corporate party has begun
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Scruffy bastards, punks
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Hiding from winter within four walls
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While the country is convulsing around
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They eat into someone's texts, like into letters
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Hidden meaning, artistic reference -
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We were looking for something that our fathers rudely didn't tell us about
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After all, how much fuel do not train yourself |
In the transition cassette boutique without virtual windows
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Childish excitement with sounds on the ceiling
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We have a plastic player in the entrance, one for the crowd
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In the outskirts, the icy stream is still quite thin,
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But he was fed with springs of voices from the tape
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Concrete ship, cabins - floors
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Everything we heard immediately turned into life,
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But my heroes took off their masks, drank Winston
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Clothes from clips were given back to stylists
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Dangerous Kents Behind Extinct Cameras
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We washed off the makeup and ran to my mother under guard
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Rap game, but there is someone who drags
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For ten semi-finished products - one real,
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But time cleans the information mound
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And leaves those who are not made of plastic
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Chorus:
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Strictly white
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Definitely bad
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MC 1.8:
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Invincible system lags of Kuzma blocks
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Self-defeated, as an element of hip-hop
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Lyrics with an existential aftertaste -
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It's sad to think that we're born just to go crazy
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The mind crowds out the soul, the world crowds out the best
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Coming out of a trance, the automaton sees the past in the future
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Like one loop of repetitions of past mistakes |
Record and check each similar passage
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Here, still on the playground, they thump in a tractor
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The way you roll with doubles gets tripled
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The rod is a little rusty, but it cannot be bent
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No matter how many lei of water, you will never change the essence -
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Just be, just act, just be action
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Right now just to be a part of this song
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A lifetime is sometimes like a tiny step
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One word on a strictly white piece of paper
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Ant (25/17):
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Yes. |
My old school is destroyed
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In the place where there was noise and din - silence
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They say there will be a new mall
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And they say it almost without an accent,
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And how high school students dreamed in the smoking room -
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Everyone will remember, the classics studied here
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After all, it’s not just that at awards competitions
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Medals, certificates, prizes at the Olympiads
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Hooligans of yesteryear, battle veterans
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Who drank pure alcohol and brewed screw
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Like dogs beaten in the rain
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They walk and whine: let's burn down the new school
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Together with the teachers and the head teacher -
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And at least we will understand, now why live
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These years I rarely remember -
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I have my own factory and I am the director there |
Prive (x4):
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Strictly white
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Definitely bad
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We need people here
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To make rap in Russia |