The Samara region will be the first on our list,
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As far as he is the closest to me,
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The most joyful and sweetest and how much life has not beaten,
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In fact, here I had everything for the first time
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Let's go through Leningradka, there used to be tents,
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Now paving stones, but not quite smooth,
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Under the Arbat style, it's a pity that it's four blocks away,
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But all the guys know how to stir up
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A nabka is spread along the shore of the Vogli,
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Everyone was brought here by dad or mom,
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Now we have grown up and here we are grabbing hacks,
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We drink beer and play old guitars on benches.
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In fact, this is the main thing - this is my truth,
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Reading like a padre behind the scenes almost like backgammon guys
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Nine districts, year two thousand and ten
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We are all here and that means in action
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In my area everyone remembers Ilyich,
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Wooden huts were made of bricks,
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I promise that I will visit
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these places even when I'm old
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Alabama Cuba pampered the ear,
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Sounds of people from the right movement,
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house asphalt, house cascade
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And I'm glad that my steel was reddening here,
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This is my sadness, lanes parks,
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Lenin streets, Lenin quarters
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All areas of the map, links of one system, |
But mine will be the first for me.
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Salam samara mom is Masta Craft with you,
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A pupil of the railway district and a student of the outskirts,
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The railroad takes you to Samara,
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Do you know how it is sitting at the station
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If you are visitors, then you are in the area,
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And if you Samara people know the Aurora area,
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Partizanskaya, Gagarin around residential buildings
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Our subways, our parks and suburbs
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The first, third tram, minibuses go here
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two two six, two zero seven or hitchhiking
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Look both ways in the aurora range,
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be careful you are on the railway area
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Beautiful, but musara in the snout ksiva
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They shake Maxim to the maximum, yes,
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There is dirt and bumps on the sidewalks, but
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Oktyaborsky decides at night
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I like to walk around the area alone
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Past bright shop windows, lush mountain ash
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Happens with ddeyam for a couple of labors
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Goes out at four o'clock in the morning
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rocket sector, local respect,
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Sipa, star, lenina street avenue
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Those who have been here
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I will be understood and not forgotten
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The fires in the barrels will warm you with warmth
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Wherever you are, your home will always accept you
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The street will smoke, the street is the rhythm,
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Communication path part of the schemes old book carrying meaning |
The native area will always meet cool
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On the benches with the brother of the beer plank
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And along familiar paths
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hang in friendship under the parishes on the hills
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Here is brother for brother, here it is hard to push
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The truth is the truth, and if you style it to the point of melting,
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March Build Council District,
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Pichera one five one world local
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Two zero ten here is an industrial area,
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like thunder six three region
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Prem for seven prom there we burn with fire,
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From what coma and coma is it sweet, like a dream
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All rap here weighs a thousand tons,
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This is not the first volume that we bring to your house
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In more detail, then let's go higher to the roofs,
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There I hear who breathes what we write
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From the streets of hip hop flow from source to leaf,
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I present an industrial blog,
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my road is the sounds of beaton,
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rock the quarters, we prick the microphones
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As he sinks into waterways, he drooped,
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Matai if you don't understand
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We are cartridges in the clip,
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In promo of nine districts
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hello district, it's me
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Long time no see, yes, really
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Everything is somehow somewhere else,
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In other yards, porches, huts
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Grab? |
Yes, no guys, I'm yes, the area
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The boys are waiting and mom is worried at home,
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Hello, another friend |
He nods his head, but he doesn’t know what to call for any reason
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I am a citizen of Kirov or a citizen of Kirov, as you like,
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District, damn it, Kirov is almost the very ass,
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And someone blurted out without thinking that he was sleeping,
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Well, yes, I'm the king and I'm welcome to the throne.
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The power of nine districts and the heart of Russia
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Here Nike Staff from under media
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I lay behind the Krasnoglinsky from the quarters of happy fur,
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Sleeping verticals of concrete scaffolding
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In the wilderness of the outskirts that press on the ears, it drowns out the vanity,
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Where shadows choke those who speak in unison
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Men in uniform threatened two for aerosol masterpieces,
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In the area ambulance sweet air for everyone
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Grinding the cross, s recording the whisper of the roofs of the panel landscapes |