Let me out into the hall, I took a bomb with me
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And this is my verbal volley, I will give anyone in the forehead or in the ass
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It will be hell for you if you don't like hip-hop
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Call me as a result, like a verbal automaton
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But I'm sfan mat and don't use mat
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But with my thinking I'll put you all to the mat
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Those who don't think in this room never move
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Try to break my machine
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Remember more carefully if you are driving to the topic
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I don't degrade at home, I reload the clip
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Maybe I have no hearing, but I'm an inveterate guy
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Crazy and sick, let the rap freak
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And these are not just words, these are my bullets.
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I walked with rappers until I realized that I was scammed
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Until I understood one thing at all and their words cooled down, and they have been firing blanks for a long time ...
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And here I get it, my machine gun is my friend
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Now the hands are at the seams, the turn has gone ...
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Come on, everyone in their places, there, now it's your turn ladies, ladies
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Words fly into the temple, tra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta
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Come on, everyone in their places, there, now it's your turn ladies, ladies
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And wake up from sleep tra-ta-ta-ta
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Follow me closely, don't turn your back |
You are not destined to breathe in front of us, but don’t be stupid
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Shake your hand under the beat, and try to master this style with all your might
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Ask do not ask, ask to dump, I came to repay
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With a rhyme after, so I don’t mind, you can take out your brains
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Yes, I have a mania when I read, not me, but in rap literature
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I don't have bad knowledge.
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My uncle rapper sent you to complete the task
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As in the exam, your knowledge that I pass by my heads
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So don't panic, take a pencil, the line flies at you
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This is a verbal kalash
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You can poke me respect, you can use the middle finger, one effect is important to me, so that you wake up ...
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And so I get it ... Oh, no, it's early. |
Now
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And here I get it, my machine gun is my friend
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Now the hands are at the seams, the turn has gone ...
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Come on, everyone in their places, there, now it's your turn ladies, ladies
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Words fly into the temple, tra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta
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Come on, everyone in their places, there, now it's your turn ladies, ladies
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And wake up from sleep tra-ta-ta-ta
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Salute, people, I'm in trouble, I killed the guys here in the studio
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I didn't want it, it happened spontaneously, but all their bodies are gone with their show-offs |
It so happened, I don’t know, they are all before my eyes, I sit and wash my eyes with tears
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They read rap to themselves and did not suspect that a crazy, crazy guy was breathing in Poltava
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They always read rap to themselves and did not suspect that a crazy, crazy guy was breathing in Poltava
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Sorry Russian rap, my style just grew, and how psychosis overtook
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The verse is like a knife of a handful, the author of these lines is crazy, blows slippers from them
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So that the verse would die, every MC freak got stuck, it’s not ssy to get out, a nickname would grow on the way, but the butcher became a butcher, take them out
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On the minus, I moved with thoughts, I have long been addicted to songs, texts written by the veins that I suffered ...
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I'm crazy fucking, my world is on paper, I live for rhymes
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Here is a hip-hop fanatic, everyone who minds here you have my average torch
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Why are you hysterical, it's pop from the telly like a slacker
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Yes, I'm from the other side, but nerves like Bereng's, Russian rap is not happy with this
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This is not Potap, here it is a flood, alarm.
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Riot is a battle to take off, call the gang to cut a couple of half across, in a world where rap is the rock of fate
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No matter how much you love, curse and hate, you are lovers against the background of me, because you are forgotten when |
I take the microphone, don't touch my throne, don't tone my tone cartridge all fund and background and under the beat is killed |