| My biosphere, revolutionaries
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| So you know, don't get on your nerves
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| All around are bandits
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| Stretch and types
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| Oh mai gash (hic)
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| Before killed, my tracks, my tricks
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| I am like a "steppe artist"
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| Yes, I fell, doing a kick flip under a twist
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| My tracks are a struggle, this is a deflection
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| I was on drugs harder than Lil Peep and didn't die
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| We are children of the steppes, not social networks, not the first year in the rap game
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| Everyone in this world knows my name
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| Children of the steppes, not social networks, will take everything you have
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| You don't realize our power in this game
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| Under the hood of a herd, five hundred heads
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| With me a crowd of hungry, a bag of knives and trunks
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| Gan is smoking in the tachila, so that it takes better
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| I didn't come in peace, but for evil faggots
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| Set the table
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| When we pay visits, bitch, fall face down on the floor
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| And we scream like Jungars, it's not warm with us at all
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| Throw tribute to me and for each of my brothers
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| Oh pomelo tongue, let you down
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| We took your heifers, clearly merged like a UFO
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| Hey, look at the scoreboard! |
| If intact, then lucky
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| After all, our raids leave neither people nor words
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| Ah, I'm punching low, celik shake junk |
| We put here and there, these (bype) conons
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| Kamon and don't save the nomad gets bored to the fullest
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| Horde, mama soaked the cities
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| Trampled half the world, got to you on the wires
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| Calm down, my friend, it's barely getting dark
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| We fly in without knocking, like the winds of the steppes
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| Balam balam, bye bye
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| Gift, gift, I will give you
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| No time to sit at home
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| Big, lift yourself up and come to us (your city is on fire)
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| Eh, cities are burning behind us
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| Everyone is talking about it
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| They raise their hands to the sky
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| Like a white flag, they already know what we will take
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| Everything that is dear to you
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| Pieces of cash - what you need
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| The industry is melting before our eyes like a bar of chocolate
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| Outside my window is not Harlem
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| My pieces are on her lips like bunches of grapes
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| White, look at the truth
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| Throw out the fuck your respect, quickly give me my money
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| The wildest guy, a couple of liters of poison in the tank
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| While you were clapping, I took the third in a row
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| I break into this building because I am a Kazakh
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| Hey bala, I'm on a mission because I'm Kazakh
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| They won't move because I'm Kazakh
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| We took it ourselves, in Kazakhstan, because I am a Kazakh |
| Boy, we have weight, a couple of grams and press
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| And in my pocket is what I cut out - knocks out everyone here
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| Crumpled face, yes fucked up, fuck it, rollim cas
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| Two pieces of this stuff, man, your one way ticket!
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| Fifth day in a suit, two days in tricols
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| In the morning after the club, ba-bans in Burabay
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| You know where I'm from, 01 Astana
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| I won't shake a crab for you if you say Nur-Sultan
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| T-S-Y-P
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| Basically, I am the son of the steppes
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| I'll add zero if fate puts an end to me
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| In the left hand is the chalk of fate, in the right, the bitch, the trunk of fate
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| I will do everything so that not a single one of my sons goes into a loan
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| All that is dear to you is silver and gold
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| Euros or dollars, we'll take everything you have
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| All that is dear to you is silver and gold
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| Euros or dollars, we'll take everything you have |