| Evening. |
| Moscow. |
| I fell out of nowhere naked on the outskirts
|
| The participants of the battle, sensing something was wrong, immediately pulled up their asses
|
| But calmly! |
| I'm not Kolya Redkin, I'm not interested in men's asses
|
| I'm here to find and cut this pineapple from the show "Songs"
|
| I would like to find a motorcycle and clothes, but there are only fresh men in cock clothes around
|
| They all stand and smoke a fat dick funny, and I see through the scanner: their chic is cheap
|
| I'm taking away the poor fellow's mobile, which looks like a brownie Kuzya
|
| His name is Jesus, but I'm an atheist, and I discharge a hidden uzi into a motherfucker
|
| Okay, Google: "Russian rap", the first link is the site "The Flow"
|
| But wait a minute, where is hip-hop at all? |
| They would piss in the eblo for these articles
|
| "Oxy tweeted", "Oxy twerked", "Oxy scratched behind his ear"
|
| Fuck your mother, crappy journalists, your cuckoo really flew off
|
| There is not a word about Jay Mare, apparently he is not a rapper, but then where can you find this unfortunate artist?
|
| Ostankino, of course! |
| Nursery of mediocrity! |
| Where else can all these ferrets breed?
|
| I go down to the subway, I look askance at everyone, the whole car now has wet crosses
|
| Some asshole listened to a song about love, I helped him find a way to commit suicide
|
| I'm coming for you, pineapple!
|
| I'll cut your tuft!
|
| I battle like you more than once
|
| After all, people like you are here in bulk
|
| I'm coming for you, pineapple!
|
| Did a chill run down your back?
|
| I battle like you more than once
|
| But the battle is much stronger
|
| Welcome to the show "Funeral"
|
| This is your finale, you flew out in advance
|
| This is your swan song
|
| All show business ends here
|
| Academician Koroleva, I'm walking naked with a gun through the district
|
| Neither Sarah Connor will save you, nor Timati and there is no way to avoid a fuck here
|
| He hawked, piled on the porch of the television center, the guards at the entrance changed their faces there
|
| They have hookah rap in their ears, I “on” my hose to them, and they let’s sing concerts in it
|
| Where is the casting? |
| I'm in a hurry to kill. |
| How long can a cheap leftist be cultivated?
|
| What is Jay Mar, what is Rapsat - how can you tell them apart? |
| It would be better if Levan passed
|
| Secateurs in hand, hair on the floor, come on, fuck you, lackey
|
| I let you all go home, praise my kindness here
|
| Joke! |
| What a fucking kindness? |
| I'm here to concoct a mountain from your bodies
|
| Stiminator. |
| Judgment Day. |
| You respect me with your silence
|
| The deed is done, I leave the building through the front door
|
| Nobody cares that I slapped Jay Mara, because he himself tried to get into this batch on an equal footing
|
| I'll be back, bitch, hello everyone! |
| I will come for everyone from both grids
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| To wrap you in a tarpaulin along with your rap, dispelling all doubts once and for all
|
| Even Pictures Columbia has no idea - what incentive do rivals have to give up
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| You root for the talented, which is why Steam wins |