Yo, this is Leszek. |
Good evening diary
|
I haven't written for a long time, wait I'll take a few spliffs
|
I'll open the window and drive the cat outside
|
Just me and you, we'll split this night half and half
|
I have a bad autumn, my friend, I do not regret it
|
That's how it is, I know, I hardened my psyche like steel
|
A lost peace, like the Grail, an illusion
|
Days disappear, the world through the glass from behind the desk
|
Dear diary, you know it's not a complaint
|
It's an exchange, a letter for every tick from the watch
|
Tattoo with emotions burned with a soldering iron let it hurt
|
Warsaw Antki do not scream
|
And even if it strengthens the skeleton
|
It strengthens, but also burns a part of you to dust
|
Too many toxins like acid bathing
|
I don't want to spit venom and dip the nibs in acid
|
Dear diary, now a moment about rap
|
One metaphor, slapstick every thousand hits
|
If retirees are tired - take a break
|
Too few leaders, too many Indians want to play the drums
|
Sit on the bench, sip Gatorade
|
Put stamps on the piece of paper and connect the words with the snare drum
|
Rap student, student and activist
|
A fool rapper, a simpleton rapper, a fascist rapper
|
What the fuck is going on in the diary?
|
I know a marathon is fun, but not everyone has to run
|
Not everyone should come down from the tree
|
Stuhr, you lie, man, from today not everyone can sing
|
Paganini pissed off, forgive me
|
But you know in your diary that when you love, you have to
|
Orthodoxy, because I'd be cut to rap
|
Riposte for those who are proud of rap
|
Too much ego as if we were not one
|
I'm sick of this, I kill morons with freshness
|
I am fed up with aggression, attacks on my image
|
For a culture whose main imperative is respect
|
ES Zet A Ce U eN E Ka - if you don't know the meaning, homie you're playing the wrong game
|
You piss, you bump, I watch these jumps
|
And I understand that - I set the bar so high
|
Too many architects - few builders
|
Too few fans - the critics surround us
|
Too many professors - students went into the forest
|
Too many disagreements - not enough good songs
|
Dear diary, give me a moment more
|
It is important to me, it flows in my every vein
|
I speak rap, I think rap
|
I catch thoughts and put them on paper
|
I dreamed such a world once
|
And every "blah blah" is just "blah blah"
|
Because when God is your bodyguard, you will cheat the devil
|
So I walk the streets like an immortal
|
Like a city, semper fidelis - always faithful
|
The city, you know in the diary, I will take you to the Vistula River
|
We will drink, smoke, talk, remember, think
|
These are different days, different me, different Warsaw
|
Without her, if not she is talking about her
|
She fought the diary, I looked closely
|
It hurts, but it is a duty to stand by and persevere
|
Doctors say - it can go away, different things say
|
He may lose them, because it was so long, after all, life
|
She catches up with the last moments, she is ready
|
But I see that instead of going, she would rather go through it all over again
|
So she used it what? |
Enough, finish, finish
|
I know it is so in the diary, but pain is not a detail
|
Don't ask for it, I'll take it out of the drawer sometime
|
A story about angels at the time of extermination
|
Angels from Warsaw, strength of spirit and pride
|
Passions and faith that crushed walls
|
The memory of the diary, keeps the relic
|
Remembering a city guide, a small homeland
|
The thought said, respect your mother, make your dreams come true
|
Love life like a madman, punch your mouth if you have to
|
Set the world on fire for that one - burn to hell
|
Listen to your heart - we don't have many days on earth
|
I could take that long, diary
|
I have not so many words, there are not so many days, so many pages in a notebook
|
Aleja Róż I remember, I will be there, word
|
With her, a bunch of little rascals living a life of agony
|
With earwires, Antki from a good school in Warsaw
|
No way in the diary, don't bother
|
And that's how it works, memories work
|
Shot - I fall into rubble, wound forever
|
Although experience is said to teach, the diary
|
Fate drives me, sometimes I wonder
|
Will I get up when I fall again
|
From fate a button on the nose, from kind-hearted advice:
|
«It'll be fine» - get the fuck off ... go talk to the naive
|
Git, there is life, I do not require enough
|
I take - thank you, and keep thinking
|
Pain plus daydreams, a strange combination
|
Actor of a thousand roles, Satan bathes me in attractions today
|
Thousands of words, on the shoulder of Jibril
|
A night of peace, a diary, a night of remembrance and prayer |
He is on the wings, through the city together
|
Sprinkling words into your dreams in the form of dreams
|
Doctor Strange Parias but also a super hero
|
An outcast, an idealist who stands naked in front of the world
|
Yo, this is Parker but not Peter, I weave a web of letters, I live in the clouds though this
|
ground floor
|
Words, time, barter, half serious, half joking
|
Half and half a beat, vodka, juice, half and half, boom, boom that's life
|
Diary, you know everything, the world is strange
|
Sometimes I do not believe excuses for the naive
|
I don't get it, you can do more if you know something
|
A chest of medals worth a dick when you are empty of your mind
|
13-year-old, shut your mouth, take the facts
|
You can, however, go on swings by the hand
|
You poison her purity with yourself, she will sweat
|
Chills when the man walks by
|
Be aware, we're talking about a baby to hell
|
I'm not demanding a lynch, but defenders go to hell
|
Sad truth, New Age propaganda
|
I get off the diary after the bumps of morality riding!
|
This is not a diary for me, I was born too small
|
Blind almost crippled, 700 kilos in weight
|
Maybe that's why I don't get it, I don't fit and irritate
|
I don't know how to move and all I have is my imagination
|
I'm not complaining about fate, it's not indifference
|
I win, I have some sauce, I can see beauty in a moment
|
I believe the heart is right
|
Call it what you want, laugh it off, I'll laugh at your pessimism
|
Faith is a treasure, without faith, the will is only potential
|
I have a misfire, a treasure in the warehouse
|
True, many are afraid, want to hide
|
I like dreams too, I don't want to escape into illusions
|
Take turns, work, beat hot steel
|
Before making a stone house, give her the one built with arms
|
Life - diary, I'm still a fan
|
Solo Dolo as Kid Cudi in a cold bed in the morning |