anything
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Yo-yo-yo-yo-yo
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The voice of the cellars
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Hey get it bitch
|
Bullets in the clip, don't whine - it doesn't hurt
|
For now, sing to me, do you hear the voices of the underground?
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I have a nuclear reactor smoldering in my hand
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Your nose is covered in flour and your foot is in heels
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Hey, a feisty smell brings a bouquet
|
Aphids, in the darkness the fire of four rockets
|
Brass knuckles are put on your hand, you will be forgiven in heaven
|
Pass by, jack, they won't treat you here
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Wake up waiting for spring
|
Advertising is the engine of progress, you are its sons
|
Check out my world with undeniable facts
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I'm not your idol, just smoke my thoughts
|
People have become imaginary, got us the rules
|
We take out the trunks, and it's time to bring down *shot* (e)
|
Peace to all of us and legal smoke
|
Whoever does it, the rapper will be underground
|
And I still believe in E. coli and other bifidobacteria
|
More or less people on TV from a young age
|
Measured and measured and still aimed at the head
|
There are bad intentions and guys on the gelding
|
For dashing judgments they believed me
|
I wander through the channels in search of advertising
|
TV is a serial killer for mom
|
Something hits the eardrums plus something in the bong
|
We don't give a fuck, it's Delta or an extension group (e!)
|
Thick or thin, we hardly used Pampers, but we found diapers
|
Nothing to do with the one who has at the bottom of his pocket
|
A new house, but drug addicts already live in it
|
We are mammoths and we are going to die out soon
|
In year 12 at McDonald's the whole world will vomit
|
Petrozavodsk underground
|
Tut ASSHOLE Production
|
Young Beats production
|
Ye, ASSHOLE Records, woah |