Текст песни Улыбайся стреляют - Андеграунд

On our stage musician closely
He so hard to be honest,
After all, people like strange things
They seemed clamped in a vise

Once the music was art
Right now sold as a commodity tasteless
Product commercially universal
Price and quality are not directly proportional to

Pr.
Thousands of teams on their shoulders carry our underground.
Millions of hands beat rhythm of his heart hammering.

Behind the scenes, a lot of money mutyatsya
They are divided mediocrity fuckers and loafers
She pops on the votes of plywood
But everyone wants to be in the first

They appointed awards and prizes,
Recognized the best in obscure the view.
All charts are bought esters disbursed
Everything else, and a fortiori has long been caught!

Honest lyrics
Real Tones
Stay together
Born on the streets

Pr.
Thousands of teams from last forces are our underground.
Millions of hands beat rhythm of his heart hammering.