Текст песни Ilya Withe - Слюни и сопли

Around drool and snot, blood, sweat yeah, yeah cry pus
In the brain, it promises: "rogue be given at home!"
Amid imbitsily, vyserkov and other heresies mash
I own, and I do not Sgin with the area.

You can throw me in the waste - your line,
Harrow my mind Futurism until he dies.
Or you can torment your dissovym romance,
Break out the thunder.
But it's all in vain - get up again.

Try to be the people of Grozny strong
Phrases thrown, say, micro smokes and burns.
But, it is true, that they do not know wimp - it snot,
A mass consumption. As for me - diet shit.

Not molvlyu that stand for simplicity, most of the sincerity
Involuntarily dose phrases floats to the light perfectly.
Perhaps I myself wimp, but I do everything from the heart
And my soul lay out even in this crown.

And I am here in spite paste dribbling, phrases sluggish,
Shacks offspring, and confused masses of rubbish.
Albeit I did not try to look powerful, formidable
But its lines shove your face in the nests.