Текст песни Loqiemean - СТАЯ 1993

Soul on the lace and on the throat
My whole rap is about life
Without legs on a wide leg.
Shine without diamonds
Notes
Polish the metal, your blade shines.
Temper your lungs yourself, boy
Do not trust others.
You have a blacksmith's fur there.
Potential and talent, but do not burn yourself like others, look at them there is no face.

Hey

Soul on the lace and on the throat.
It hurts hard.
For you to remember.
Will is at stake. Do you understand the golem?
You were not made of clay. Your spirit is your spirit.

My priest is not the law
On the displacement of the verbs
it
Pack, bitch dogs fucking without shackles.
He called himself the owner, call the shooters.

We don't need words, look into me
And you will understand everything, I don't see stop signs
There is a brand on the chest, not suitable, but the flock is waiting and barking

A flock, a flock of a hundred, waiting.

Tell me who you are if you don't have friends.
There are so many complaints, but where the fuck is the goal.
Neo-Sovietism is Russian Zen
If it breaks from prices
Get a goof on the shop.
But not.
I am not a good miscarriage
like you
ninetieth number
Estimate
I was born - my mother died
We fed on the corpses of the white house
Orphans have a random life here

For a fake I will stand on the cross
My whole camp is busy now
Homemade like Chester
The flock believes in me more than himself

Pigeons shit on Adam Smith
Pigeons shit at Marx's grandfather
I’m trained, I’m not a leader, Loki is a shepherd, not a shepherd, I’m meat too.