Salute, what's the tinder?
|
Guf true, but he is a corpse
|
He was cool, but suddenly died.
|
Everyone around lies, I'm here.
|
Girls amuse, scabies itch
|
They drown in their grievances
|
Washed bones are as white as untouched paper.
|
Like the ceiling of a hospital room.
|
Someone's life offended
|
Here they invent not on business.
|
And I know you are
|
Just listened to your a capela
|
Yes, this is not a hobby, not a fashion trend.
|
This is a spiritual revelation
|
Inspired and tested by time, music
|
Increasingly hip hop gatherings
|
Hairstyle, pizhenny Kengel, drunken walk
|
Not well-groomed jacket, leather
|
Can you imagine, the hemp put into milk came to life
|
She takes me with her
|
without even asking for a name
|
Now for thinking about every moment, more time
|
It is necessary to stir up so as not to leave the northeast coast
|
If I say that there are no sins for me, no one will believe me.
|
I need to buy the psychology of evil, I don’t remember the author
|
And send a parcel to a penal colony
|
I will also go to my father, my father to visit
|
And here I am with a pure soul, meet my dear
|
Autumn will take and not ask |
We will hang from the street at the studio
|
And the stuff is killer in leaves or tops
|
This evening is not the only one
|
Games with thoughts, are they with you or are you with them
|
Give birth to music and poetry for centuries
|
Not a big road, from Moscow to Tankograd
|
Look both ways, like opening a cocoon
|
A fat tag stretches
|
There are many of us here, no more, no less than necessary
|
After a tight bong, back to work, not happy about the salary
|
In the warmth of brotherly conversations, I meet the dawn
|
Captivated by heated discussions until released
|
This hip hop bro brings you
|
A ray of sunshine in the moment of autumn sadness
|
I got through the wire brother into your room
|
I need you to get out of the pool
|
Music can be worth more than gold if you invest
|
into her self
|
Autumn bitch ousts summer
|
Outside the window the trees are rocked by the wind
|
Opened notepad without notes and so
|
Thoughts fly into the monitor
|
Peace to everyone who knows how hip hop warms in the cold
|
Who fumbles for sour rap and hearty? ..?
|
It's forever and takes us off the ground
|
Music as a helmet from household fuss
|
She is all I have and I am with her.
|
It is she who is the engine of the lines on the sheet |
With me from birth to the end of days
|
She came from heaven, having made her way from crowns to roots
|
Let's add a little, a little people go to the sound
|
Any time of the day you just need to stick a disk
|
And we will always be in touch
|
In a notebook elm read aloud on the record
|
Only dirt, as always, is a weighty message here
|
With this verse I beat off a penny who knows
|
Through the prism of resins and soot of the industrial zone
|
Look at the world and discover new sides
|
I look at the smoke through the glass of the bong
|
Poured water on the Adam's apple, London outside the window
|
And it's warm here, our studio is heated by batteries
|
Hey doc, bring your staff here soon
|
We need smoke, we need smoke
|
So that my ears are fucking pawned
|
Understood!
|
Uncle rash to the brim, see how the capital is rocked
|
Chelyabinsk outskirts.
|
With rap firmly firmly,
|
My eyes are not really visible from under a deep cap
|
Until melted on hip hap
|
Stopar alcohol removed for understanding daddy
|
There's a talented monster in my head
|
Idea generator, but on the other hand, he is sick.
|
And it is not curable so to speak.
|
But he does not bazaar too much.
|
I got through the wire brother into your room |
I need you to get out of the pool
|
Music can be worth more than gold if you invest
|
into her self
|
I invested exactly as much as I lived here.
|
At first with Fast big, then the whole squad.
|
Deeper into the mirages, we move to the right behind the garages,
|
Here is what is called fat repchik.
|
Those who are dead but alive. |
In short, for our
|
I get something important from the depths of my soul
|
I close my eyes and hear voices
|
I take paper with a pen and start shredding
|
I didn't write it, hand wrote it myself
|
All their salam fell on the sides
|
Bro music the sidewalks the sounds of the gutters
|
We were not few
|
Now we are FUCKING!
|
We are unmeasured. |
little time before the grave.
|
Devoted to hip hop, we walk side by side
|
We have experience, and we know how without fawn.
|
And what sticks ready to defend "well fuck it"
|
And it will never stop
|
You estimate will change the face to change the city
|
Style and presentation.
|
But one thing I know for sure, when everything is over there will be a dense barrel.
|
We prepared the ground, studied the sky
|
With a clumsy underline you were taught to rap
|
I don't know how to cut samples, I don't know what tempo I need |
I wrote ice baby for her.
|
Ohhh how it was a long time ago, my city is dear, my garden is so dear to me.
|
Collar on you collar upside down back to front.
|
I'm rushing how people behave.
|
So I saw the bottom, it was dark there.
|
Sorry, I don't want to go back for nothing!
|
I will do my best not to go under
|
I'll pass the chip, save the brother, blow the bump.
|
Ay ay 74 I swear I wanted to make a positive track
|
But again, it didn't work, unfortunately.
|
I respect your move! |
salute to Artem and Zhenya
|
For those who are carpenters on the rap system
|
For whom all this is more than just a hobby
|
This country needs more time and a special approach
|
All the best from the bottom of my heart to everyone who lives this |