Текст песни SoRT - Снова на битах

again autumn on the bits, warm the one faith
What do not ask - everything is wrong, in the beat we go, probably
everything will be with time, for that I am sure
how much would not doubt but we are in the subject, however

how much is the way you go, how much do you drink, how much Dunny
how much product will be done on the secret studio
we will do sound as another Zamrift
we will do the world the world is still perceiving people

Liberate place, no one will help
every random passerby, nothing else bothers
stories of quarters on the wall of the ballon with paint
And what I will not have time to do on the skin

I go familiar trap
We were given freedom surrounded by fences
Melody streets increasingly sounds miners
Wings are broken, cross campaigns

... the sky lashed smok
Make for me, brother, if I could not ...
again smoke under the ceiling
So the row on the line is born hip hop

I am not punk and not goth, not a gop and not a thief
Turn around the turn and so from year to year
This voice of the catacombs is modestly modest from micro
These topics in your turn from the city of roads

Broat the pogrom, bro, if suddenly you are trapped
it's shit if you can fuck on repeat
From the city of 3x bridges, from the city of dust
neatly wings that would not forget who we were