Текст песни Sokol - Слова имеют крылья

I'm not on the Indus Fest, without pop songs
Ten audience appreciate my concert in the stairwell
Sometimes my style is not strong and not appropriate
But not for you to judge a kid I Tallant or incompetent!
I'm not enough space here to all who
not while I climbed in Battle
SOCA and the road charted on rails
shut up in a cold sweat every opezdal

bailiffs will burn all your texts
my every word will fly you to Bosko
Trust me friend, you've got to mince
you in the third did not expect yyy
My word round your old rod
Clip in charge Now you're dead
Palud random turns sound
call me Eppesen Knud

I predict success in a hoodie instead of robes
you're right, the outcome of the battle is not yasnen
I agree, but your style fucking is not dangerous
as you apply poreshat myself
if you read the gibberish mouth bandaged
Your crew is The ensemble of songs and dances
if a student from Kiev to Moscow
you will become cheap meat

This rap about turnips and this is what you need
under the grime and double step bobs together
Your style aka nonsense - no fucking trushny
when my victories toad you will be strangled
my words --- like a cannon
cruise missiles fly to your ears
changed his mind over his better lines
their meaning has long erring

Wearing the attic bigger cap
Spreading the fingers fan rifmuesh bestolku
you all recorded and cart leaflet
I prepared the words in the ears of a mixture of Colca
Themis decide here and inappropriate bribery
I call on you, I did not drink vodka with you
in its passage are not sure whether
It has 100 percent hundred lie

You hesitated for a long time like a metronome
But I passed the garbage with the stigma of shit and weight was two feet he
Respect? Bummer! My words - chuck you in the forehead and under the earth
You finally will occupy his throne, Ait
all fuckers - out! bryaya