Show biz, zashib, zashib, show biz.
|
Hey, I see you are settled,
|
Shut everything up, silence
|
I appeal to you, showbiz,
|
Maybe I can take it just as deftly
|
Write to blondes
|
Stupid book about the ruble.
|
Oh, I'm tortured by the loot, I'm so bored,
|
Problem on problem, the verta turned off,
|
Ferrari won't start, the whole cartier was stolen,
|
Oh, I'll go to Nice, how you've made me sick.
|
Or become a hairdresser, but send everything to hell,
|
And sing unexpectedly
|
Something very unexpected
|
For everyone to throw up their hands
|
And without knowing it themselves, in one voice to him -
|
Seryozha, maybe you could cut your hair better.
|
Yes, it's definitely better, cut in all ways,
|
Show business stands firm, asks no questions.
|
If you want, in the form of a reality show for old people and teenagers,
|
Which is simply impossible to watch without cigarettes.
|
Fuck and build a house, that's two tasks
|
Which poorly perform two dozen losers.
|
And you sit by the fire and tell the viewers,
|
What Nastya saw Sam and Lena in the morning.
|
And people send SMS, saving whom it is not enough to kill,
|
And the prom queen is on the cover of a magazine.
|
But it's better to be a chick and preferably with boobs, |
I would then work only under the threat of a gunshot.
|
Maybe I and three of my friends sang in the group,
|
And they would give birth in a circle, replace each other.
|
But I would have left the group or I would have been asked,
|
Suddenly I would become the best heifer in Russia.
|
Well, I acted in a movie a couple of times so that they wanted me a lot,
|
So that my la-la-la in a cafe in Sochi would be voiced.
|
Or come from afar without teeth,
|
To break through to the stage so that many without showing off
|
They called an ordinary Siberian ugly handsome man,
|
And all the heifers of the country would want to give themselves,
|
Take you and not break off
|
And also start stupidly dressing up as a woman.
|
The character is fictional, coincidence, accident,
|
And from this, listen, it becomes even sadder.
|
Where are my heroes, at least one, respond,
|
And there is silence around, about show business around.
|
Hit it, showbiz, showbiz, hit it.
|
Hit it, showbiz, showbis, hit it.
|
Estrada is always so happy
|
Scandals, fights there, cool marriages,
|
There is a mustachioed romantic, a simple khokhlushka
|
And everything seems to be fine, but suddenly, bang, bang.
|
She goes to the jock in the deep darkness of the stripper, |
And he tries rap, but it turns out porn.
|
I apologize for such treatment,
|
I just have a feeling
|
That I don't have one disgust
|
From these dandelion boys
|
From their earrings, from their eternal bows,
|
From chubby producers
|
That these same boys are being used.
|
To drive around the country, to receive fees,
|
To turn the channels, to raise the loot,
|
In general, they need little
|
Oops, not in the hip-hop part
|
As they say, not in our line.
|
The characters are fictional, coincidence, chance,
|
It's better to be a goalkeeper
|
On the Russian football team.
|
True, karma is worse, but always in chocolate,
|
To training in Lamborghini,
|
From a strip bar by taxi.
|
No, well, what, he passes for great Russia,
|
Do not promise sum, do not promise prison,
|
To be honest, I myself am from the same shit.
|
I took and stupidly caressed everyone I see in the neighborhood
|
And even recorded so that you could hear
|
To then sell, like show business itself,
|
And okay, don't care, as long as I get hurt.
|
Hit it, showbiz, showbiz, hit it.
|
Hit it, showbiz, showbiz, hit it. |