| Past past, bolted
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| Everything old is dumped into the lower bowl of the hourglass
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| My panels store night hangars
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| Time goes on, time goes on, time flies, time akstit
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| And past topics have sunk into oblivion
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| And today will sooner or later be forgotten
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| Years are flying, my rap is flying from a sheet smeared with blue paste
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| Old photos have become commemorative medals
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| Those words that we threw
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| Throw your hair to the beat
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| Let's have an intermission in this performance of this and that
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| Let them twitch at the moment of the beat
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| Those who remained devoted to the old
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| They will give out the most correct sound of the bronchi that are smoky with burning
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| Day after day with a regular meal, that's the difference
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| Golden youth here they are in Fresh on Fridays
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| As long as there is strength and spirit, everyone is fucked
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| We often fall into the matrix
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| There the asphalt melts underfoot
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| Rap simulators go into space
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| Until you grow up, don't take it from an oblique attack
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| The slanted look is not from the autumn mowing
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| Don't ask questions, take my thoughts in your armful
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| Each hulk has a hapke
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| Shake it so that it will take off your hat
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| Hide-and-seek game with trash
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| The station attendant can only guess
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| We are underground rebels
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| And under the street stamp the handwriting is our terrorist act
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| Through the back door brought together a common approach to business
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| The stream is pouring, in winter we freeze the brain and body
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| The instinct of art is in the genes
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| You hit the jackpot, you go to the rating,
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| But your style is like petting
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| Hey you paskuda have the strength to beat the heart
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| As long as my panels leave the spot
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| To the music of warm notes
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| We live in Moscow, we boys rather survive
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| And every single day we insert a cigarette into a bottle
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| (Draw and thump) Hang out, draw and thump - catastrophically your immunity
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| lowering
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| No one will tell you how to exist properly
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| How to read rap and how to give drawings to trains
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| Everyone decides for himself
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| (Smoke) Smack or smack a screw in a vein
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| It doesn't take a genius to do it
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| And you become like plants
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| Repeating the mistake of long-forgotten generations
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| We will eat as long as we have the strength to put a finger on the cap
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| While from the lips of my guys and will pour juicy like a strawberry rap
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| We see positive in the rest of the feces on the soles of our sneakers
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| And we will beat anyone who violates our ban and does not answer for the bazaar
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| After all, we represent nothing but Faktsar
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| Your problems are in vanity and lust
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| Here FSUs Timati, Vivaldi and Rossini
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| There are no passive
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| Originally from Russia, from the city of Moscow
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| Under the helmet, did you recognize me in the terrorist mask?
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| We bring down trains without fear
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| We drive on trips, and without a cunt we will answer for the bazaar
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| I present here factsar, a whole
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| I speak to the point, and I support the movement of the left
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| I appreciate right people and bold behavior
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| Here is the crossroads of destinies and slums, and accurate calculation and strategy are important
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| To penetrate into the Moscow Metro possession
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| Once upon a time it doesn’t happen, falls happen
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| Garbage got busy, but this is a common occurrence
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| No time, then I'll fuck the stopcock
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| You load gunpowder into your nose, and I load paint into button accordion |