Текст песни так - Жребий брошен. InDaBattle. Round 1.

Through a squall wind, blizzards and frosts in winter
Hanging firmly walked face without closing hand
They flew into his backs of the stones and shifts of contempt
The step is all the harder, as a cloak of soul closing from doubt

Punching on the path of your pencil on a piece of paper
He is like stalker for a habar through a grill
Runs for artifact often concerned in vision
We have all he is heard, his name inspiration

Inside, the next winning battle with vice
He believes, his rows is a conversation with God
Stopped and up, fixing in clouds
Suddenly understood, standing under the sky that he is me

Friends and enemies gathered in their heads
You do not care about the field for money and I
Giving a word that the microphone will not be abandoned
I made a choice, now my lot is thrown.