They will never pump the game into the bottle
|
As long as I'm in the studio, I'm high on this place
|
Heads high, which will change your concept of the game
|
Here where style flows in the veins
|
Style on cables, life on membranes
|
You don't understand it, you don't hear it
|
I can't see just a proud head
|
They want to count profits, they want to write Jun-Ju-Check
|
The rest no stress
|
I have to do my job, no no no
|
Too many situations and too short a day
|
And today I want to change tomorrow - I know
|
It can be sad and boring and bad
|
But I'm sitting and doing and pumping oxygen
|
If you don't want to, you don't have to, I have to and I want to
|
What will be will be, for now this text and ...
|
I'll explain why you're here...
|
This is my Matrix
|
For years, sounds and drugs from cables
|
It flies against gravity
|
Living proof that Biggie was wrong (and he was)
|
Homies and joints, views
|
You already know what connects us
|
And the fate of adversity
|
Samples, chords, choruses and verses
|
Days, weeks, month after month
|
Poems, concerts, travels around Poland
|
BORON. |
again on your axis
|
NNJL, Gie do E Skubi Odme
|
It doesn't matter the genre if the words carry value
|
Mr. Machulski - return with the drawer |
You still don't believe what your iPhone says
|
Gedz, Raku, Hades on one Five-O track
|
This is my Matrix - the art of meditation
|
It needs volatile substances
|
Cards run out
|
Be the change Gandhi wants to see
|
Brain ganglia of tangled cables
|
Thoughts are the result of chemical reactions
|
Searching for the truth in a fantasy world
|
The real one was never friendly
|
The highest guides the pen, Mahdi
|
Only the chosen ones have that name
|
I stick with my brothers, we know the secret of magic
|
This is new generation music
|
Trees are growing - you can't cut down the taiga
|
The word takes root in hard stones
|
Thoughts get under the skin like splinters
|
They will stay forever, like a mother's name
|
(STUDIO HOURS) This is my opium
|
When the head is bursting from the sheer volume
|
And a lot of trouble doesn't let you sleep
|
The only thing that gives me peace of mind is (HOURS IN THE STUDIO)
|
my vote
|
Microphone, my right to vote
|
I'm a studio vampire, I work after dark
|
Deuter, Deserter, there is no silence in the block
|
Tetrahydrocannabinol is circulating
|
I've got the beat, I've got the lyrics, you let me wind it up
|
I do this shit hour after hour
|
As for the studio, their time has passed, bro |
(HOURS IN THE STUDIO) They're talking about roots again
|
Because they have nothing else to say anymore
|
The clock is ticking, their gibberish changes nothing
|
There is no excuse for regress, well
|
My light, my time
|
My energy, I will give it to you
|
Good stuff, you can get high on it
|
And the city does not sleep and only wants to take
|
My light, my time
|
My energy, I will give it to you
|
Good stuff, you can get high on it
|
And the city does not sleep and only wants to take |