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I got sick with rap and there's no turning back
As I wrote, I am writing, I will be writing
And if someone tells me that I'm not destiny in rap
I will send him to where people like him sculpt

It was launched three years earlier
Wanted to become an MS with wide pants
But he didn’t. I think and thank God
Although I would have sold my soul for it before

Well, that’s how he was born, probably rap in the blood
Let it be too corny, but here I am such a type
Who loves when people listen to him
When we write texts and they twist them

In the seventh grade, a choice was made in favor of a microphone
And I'm not hasl, from the heart every word
And there is no turning back a long time ago I realized this
I’m sick with rap, or rather on rap