| OU 74. | 
| Do not breathe on me, melancholy, otherwise you will extinguish the flame, | 
| Again, you will have to cut routes for flowers. | 
| Let the hucksters cry, and we keep our nose to the wind, | 
| Look, they made your carriage rattle with the bottoms. | 
| Smoke City, you can call us Rap City! | 
| Proud of the name, and you will not move us, the roots are in the ground there, | 
| Let's raise the flag so that it can be seen from the other world, to all our brothers! | 
| And either rain, or tears, | 
| Either they will douse us, or they will drown us under the beat of these thunderstorms. | 
| What is the result of the undertakings, we are in a quiet room, - | 
| The windows and the door are locked—we are beating even harder now. | 
| Brothers, what fates can be in practice, | 
| Painted in blood in the contract, the partak will remain now. | 
| This is the reason why drunk people fight in the tavern. | 
| Tell me, would you like to see them like this? | 
| They don't believe in uni, now it's a utopia | 
| When people want good, but not its likeness. | 
| They are looking for a miracle, being themselves a miracle, | 
| Hearts are full of life, and some are full of rubber. | 
| My first memorized text was a prayer, | 
| The first written was a declaration of love for you. | 
| Now our styles shine like cats | 
| Being a cool rain among the Atacama sands. | 
| Everything is going according to plan, errors have been reduced to a minimum, | 
| Inner peace matches the exterior. | 
| To death - with fearlessness, to life - with meticulousness, | 
| A sumptuous verse placed over the music. | 
| This is our history, Chelyabinsk, the air is bitter, | 
| At the traffic lights, the racks shake in bass. | 
| Every day we need something from engines, | 
| But these figures are from ours, like devils flee from incense. | 
| Just don't breathe on us, melancholy, recklessly, | 
| From people in actions, a migraine at the temple is fraught. | 
| How much do we have left? | 
| Will we take out up to a hundred? | 
| Remembering sad songs with a smile on your lips! | 
| It's like nostalgia - it will touch you to the depths, | 
| Like ice water filled palms on the face. | 
| In business, the main thing is not to stop, | 
| Dad will be proud of me there, and at home mom will rejoice. | 
| Do not breathe stunted melancholy, stench with fumes, | 
| When will this naive fellow get rid of a * uy - | 
| Like, where is the moral? | 
| So they take turns shuffling her. | 
| Isn't it time to slippers in hand and click? | 
| Don't touch, it's not yours! | 
| Such greed and resentment cannot be cured even by mumiyo. | 
| Will I live to see her gray hair? | 
| Oh, friends, hello! | 
| Sincerity will shed green light from the eyes on you! | 
| They betrayed the idea, and it sobs excitedly. | 
| From hell to heaven - the flight is not so important, | 
| One consolation - my beloved is waiting for me! | 
| Our Father, Thou art in heaven! | 
| We are not one of those who will be You, breaking the forehead, | 
| Asking for what we can do ourselves | 
| Moving on the path, feeling your touch; | 
| We know that you will forgive us. | 
| And the burden is lighter, there is courage to say more, | 
| Than the dullness of these everyday life on the grains of sand, folded into the sands. | 
| The living word snatches us from the paws of anguish, | 
| When looking around, they no longer saw a single thing! | 
| What is not for the future, I will throw off, leaving all the pain in the past! | 
| The cornerstone at the base, I will continue from it | 
| Build a fortress on the ruins of a collapsed building. | 
| What is more precious, the act of creation or the fact of creation? | 
| Our Father, Thou art in heaven! | 
| Juice flows down the lips of those who nevertheless tasted the fruit. | 
| Let's get the poison out of mortal bodies, I believe we have enough strength! | 
| The fire that warms us inside, in the name of all Saints! |