Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Hearse 1966 , by - VELIAL SQUAD. Song from the album Pulsar, in the genre Русский рэпRelease date: 23.12.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: A+
Song language: Russian language
Hearse 1966(original) |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| I don’t love hoes mane, I’m aiming at your skull |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| I don’t love hoes mane, I’m aiming at your skull |
| Под колесом обледенелый Стикс, по подземельям вниз |
| Круиз по преисподней, в жилах криоген |
| Зови меня Мистер Фриз, им rest in piece |
| VS, ведь они Northern Kings, я убиваю сплиф |
| Будь благодарен нам, что ты пока, вроде бы, жив |
| Мои убийцы палят в оба, от колыбели и до гроба |
| Ты дрожишь? |
| Будь как дома |
| Твоя жизнь будто кома |
| Она мне не нужна, но я взял её в лизинг |
| Зло вышло из грязи, смрада и слизи |
| И мне Люцифером отмерен лишь мизер |
| Вернуться на небо отказано в визе |
| За рулем Харон и он давит в пол |
| Пульсар из магнитолы, сзади гроб |
| Мой загробный флоу, бро плавит доуп |
| Дрифтим в слоу-мо, лишь горы трупов за стеклом |
| Их дикий гроул, лоурайдер в хром |
| И для волков они лучший корм |
| Устал от вечных видений |
| Жми на газ, преследуют тени |
| Цепи на шинах, я в оцепенении |
| Купил эти души, не срезал с них ценник |
| Мне нужно срочно выйти, бро |
| Забрать те растения, они для меня как панацея |
| И мы у цели в срок, из салона сверкаю запястьем |
| Тянет в сон, нахожусь в его власти |
| Красный шлейф протянулся по трассе |
| Их свежее мясо кромсаю на слайсы |
| Я разлагаюсь прямо на ходу, при мне новый Узи |
| Похороню сегодня худ, убегай от нас, лузер |
| Моя белая маска готова к драйв баю |
| Это — кровь, а не краска, они пострадают |
| Постоянно взрываю, туманность в салоне |
| Смоук-бокс отдыхает, сквад снова на троне |
| Бак почти пуст, срочно требует их души |
| Пара снитчей на блоке, я их обнаружил |
| Страх видно снаружи, ты опять безоружен |
| Свинец из окна прольет красные лужи |
| Катки из костей не рожденных детей |
| Не спеша проезжали мимо сотен смертей |
| Люди — корм для червей, ими полон багажник |
| Продаем в рабство сук, наполняя бумажник |
| Рядом редактор, стеклянная колба |
| Плавит кристаллы, укус белой кобры |
| Сломаны ребра, под курткой мачете |
| Грешная плоть метом согрета |
| Сквад видел секреты и скелеты из шкафа |
| Всех порочных блядей давно пора сажать на кол |
| В катафалке есть место, открыт цинковой гроб |
| Мотай назад киноленту от могилы до утроб |
| Ты доморощенный сноб, из уст потоком грязь |
| Между всех твоих слов я увы не вижу связь |
| Кусок мяса и тканей, ты в социальном капкане |
| Иллюминати нас смотрят как кино на экране |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| I don’t love hoes mane, I’m aiming at your skull |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, loced out riding with the pistol grip |
| I don’t love hoes mane, I’m aiming at your skull |
| Riding with that pistol grip |
| Riding with that pistol grip |
| Riding with that pistol grip |
| Pistol grip |
| Pistol grip |
| (translation) |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| I don't love hoes mane, I'm aiming at your skull |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| I don't love hoes mane, I'm aiming at your skull |
| Ice-covered Styx under the wheel, down the dungeons |
| Cruise through the underworld, in the veins of the cryogen |
| Call me Mister Freeze im rest in piece |
| VS, because they are Northern Kings, I kill the split |
| Be grateful to us that you are still alive |
| My killers shoot both, from the cradle to the coffin |
| Are you trembling? |
| Fell yourself like at your own home |
| Your life is like a coma |
| I don't need her, but I leased her |
| Evil came out of dirt, stench and slime |
| And only a minuscule is measured to me by Lucifer |
| Return to Heaven visa denied |
| Charon is driving and he is pressing on the floor |
| Pulsar from the radio, behind the coffin |
| My afterlife flow, bro melts the dope |
| Drifting in slow-mo, only mountains of corpses behind glass |
| Their wild growl, lowrider in chrome |
| And for wolves they are the best food |
| Tired of eternal visions |
| Step on the gas, shadows are chasing |
| Chains on tires, I'm in a daze |
| Bought these souls, didn't cut the price tag off them |
| I need to get out bro |
| Take those plants, they are like a panacea for me |
| And we are at the goal on time, from the salon I sparkle with my wrist |
| Pulling into a dream, I'm in his power |
| The red train stretched along the highway |
| I cut their fresh meat into slices |
| I decompose right on the go, I have a new Uzi |
| I'll bury the thin today, run away from us, loser |
| My white mask is ready for drive-by |
| It's blood, not paint, they will suffer |
| Constantly blowing up, nebula in the cabin |
| The smoke box is resting, the squad is back on the throne |
| The tank is almost empty, urgently demands their souls |
| A couple Snitches on the block, I found 'em |
| Fear is visible from the outside, you are unarmed again |
| Lead from the window will spill red puddles |
| Skating rinks from the bones of unborn children |
| Slowly drove past hundreds of deaths |
| People are food for worms, the trunk is full of them |
| We sell bitches into slavery, filling the wallet |
| Next to the editor, a glass flask |
| Melts crystals, white cobra bite |
| Broken ribs, machete under jacket |
| The sinful flesh is warmed by the method |
| Squad saw secrets and skeletons from the closet |
| It's high time to impale all vicious whores |
| There is a place in the hearse, a zinc coffin is open |
| Rewind the film from the grave to the womb |
| You are a homegrown snob, from the mouth a stream of dirt |
| Between all your words, I unfortunately do not see the connection |
| A piece of meat and tissues, you are in a social trap |
| The Illuminati are watching us like a movie on a screen |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| I don't love hoes mane, I'm aiming at your skull |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| Smoked out, located out riding with the pistol grip |
| I don't love hoes mane, I'm aiming at your skull |
| Riding with that pistol grip |
| Riding with that pistol grip |
| Riding with that pistol grip |
| Pistol grip |
| Pistol grip |