I hear a crack, the withers stood up
|
Through the forest, I move dexterously
|
I still don't even understand who I really am
|
Cold look, fangs like a wolf
|
This Wednesday teaches you to stick together
|
Out of 10 families, there are nine disadvantaged
|
There are many clouds in the sky again, but
|
In this madhouse, bitch, it's never boring
|
From whom to take an example here?
|
In this quarter it is fashionable to steal and lie
|
The child is afraid to sleep
|
The old man drinks vodka and fucks his mother
|
And how can one believe in fairy tales?
|
Since childhood, neither love nor affection
|
Since childhood, gray paints have been around
|
Since childhood, complexes and masks
|
There are no worse predators than people
|
Their greedy merciless smell has long been familiar to me
|
Forest at night shots wake up
|
And I need to run so as not to become someone's collar
|
Wolves, wolves
|
The street left its imprint on us
|
Wolves, wolves
|
A child grows up in a cold stone forest
|
Wolves, wolves
|
The street left its imprint on us
|
Wolves, wolves
|
A child grows up in a cold stone forest
|
I'm looking for a way, I analyze thoughts
|
Feeling the world, studying matter
|
All these people teach me about life
|
But their appearance does not inspire confidence
|
At the age of 7 there was a serious injury
|
When they told me that the godmother hanged herself
|
Wept and thought while squeezing the carnations:
|
“Not the godmother gave up, this is a wild bitch world”
|
There is nothing holy left
|
Here good is taken for weakness
|
Lots of lies, lots of dirt and flattery
|
Here they drive decent
|
Looks battered and worn
|
We are not domestic huskies
|
Better not wave the barrel
|
I've been a local resident of this wilderness since childhood (yo)
|
Tell me, God, whose gift is it?
|
Freedom is dearer to me than your grubs
|
Tons of sleepless nights
|
How not to lose yourself among hucksters and hangers-on?
|
I hear cracking boots
|
I remember from childhood, woke up - run
|
The city is full of tattoos,
|
But I'll grow up and be a wall street wolf bitch
|
There are no worse predators than people
|
Their greedy merciless smell has long been familiar to me
|
Forest at night shots wake up
|
And I need to run so as not to become someone's collar
|
Wolves, wolves
|
The street left its imprint on us
|
Wolves, wolves
|
A child grows up in a cold stone forest
|
Wolves, wolves
|
The street left its imprint on us
|
Wolves, wolves
|
A child grows up in a cold stone forest
|
Wolves, wolves
|
The street left its imprint on us
|
Wolves, wolves
|
A child grows up in a cold stone forest
|
Wolves, wolves
|
The street left its imprint on us
|
Wolves, wolves
|
A child grows up in a cold stone forest |