Текст песни бурклинги - нужен ксанакс

You just fucked up riddim
For you, grime is an area with bizi.
It's really low - tracing someone else's style
Even God himself is no stranger to you.
I see a catch everywhere
You were given freedom of speech, remember to the grave
But you're already dead
Need toasting? Buy back scum
I'm like Mike Tyson
The city does not see us at night
I need more riddim.

One hundred points in darts
Your point is bull's-eye
The congregation deliberately stares greedily.
What do you need? The fight?
Need Xanax.
Need to. More. Xanax

hook

Sanya is just a fag, or a parasite
My seed has long been in his blood
We will never get out of this paradigm
Another benchmark - I gave birth to it
They climb out of the cracks
But through the bream they don't get into the rhythm
Everyone considers it important
Doing grime, but toasting is crap
Where are the rhymes? And still the same
Goes without a trace in its own way
You read, but all that
Lame syllable. You're sick like Balmont
Diluted my lyrics with water
Where the hype is - you have no place
You don't have grime, you have a childhood - to jerk off to fathers
Who the fuck is that? Cheney? Redo?
Yes, you will understand in only a year
The father of the family pawns a pawnshop, you are not Lampard
Trust me: the cheetah is far from a favorite
Don't tell me that grime is kid in your blood
This is my "Sleep without sleep"
Here Beslan, zombie snuff,
But spring will come
Again sneakers in three
And know, I guess I was sweating so much to be
Toasting, not doing mediocre

hook