Текст песни LM - Грузит твой сарай...

“The streets are cruel” - hanging the label
I move along paving stones with brains
It’s possible that I’m sick with a bunch of phobias
One of them is: “My style is fucked up poor”
I don’t put on those slippers
While on the disk there is still folder information
Look, the guys are pooped, their name is already
And I still stop paving the route
My parachute, gone please Madame on board
There is no second either, I am my own pilot
I need to think less
To Avoid Thirds
I'm a third of my thoughts, put in a white envelope
And gently send them a bit
I put on top of the stamp there will be San Van Bi

I am preferably an admirer, with lines of meaning
And you need to gather your thoughts in these letters
Get the message, I'm gerda bit my kai
On high to do what your barn loads

My eyes are filled with energetic gas
It’s better seen at night in the hood of a braz
Lungs in depression we do not communicate with them
Sometimes we disagree, sometimes we meet
And it happens, so bro
Do not hammer yourself live free
Live as you like do not live as fashionable
Do not forget friends go to the bottom
And don't change people to dull shit