Капа - Барабаны Команчей
текст песни

In the end, the heavens will judge us
I don't carry any weights, citizen commissar
I like to smoke, but alas, I don't want to be locked up behind a fence
That's the whole conversation (where we buried the hatchet of war (This is hardcore)
I read to the music of your hearts like a maze singer
My lines seem to be flying into my head with lead
Whoever angered the gods is considered a dead man
First understand, tomahawks will show who is the father of rap
The question on the agenda, Manitou believes that you have become very overgrown (long-haired sucker)
With a tomahawk, I cut off the hair cover from my head along with the skin
You thought that you were climbing the stairs to the top, but you were flying downhill
No use, Boragoz, tomahawks will show who is the colossus in rap
This is hard rap, sharp rap
All your stars are rhinestones and glitter
Or not the song that you met somewhere in the charts
Wash your ears and don't listen anymore henceforth their
Reason in the clutches of the brain around the noise and sold-out at the box office
As if a soldier in a TM mask came in the house at the forehead Schmeisser

Like a head revolver my tomahawk sadist
Something bothers me for the laws stupid mister officer
Deprived of manners, the lines of the Criminal Code between us a barrier
Come on come on come on come on come on don't bite your tongue Ramsey
Like a head revolver my tomahawk sadist
Something bothers me for the laws stupid mister officer
Deprived of manners, the lines of the Criminal Code between us a barrier
Come on come on come on come on come on don't bite your tongue Ramsey

Well, pass it to the cent (pass it to the cent)
Here the lines are right on the beat (on the beat)
In the case of the tomahawks Manitou (Manitou)
Scalps are cut off right on the fly
The skull showed its nakedness
Yes, I'm not much of a playwright for you
But the lines I appreciate this sharpness
That's why I weave a bandage on my fists
A lot of caricatures of people
And in the shoulder straps of various structures of corrupt skins
I'm telling you as it is without cuts
They say hip-hop is a dead man these days
These are the battle drums of the Comanches
And how else can you rock in a car
Nothing will be like before
A little boy in a jug of punches (punches)
Here are the old skeleton of the guys for you
A mansion of a girl, a plan and cognac
I remained tough on the Volga until it softens
I want the jug of the tramps not to dry up
Here are the old skeleton of the guys for you
A mansion of a girl, a plan and cognac
I remained tough on the Volga until it softens
Pour tobacco on my cap, my fellow countryman

Like a revolver on my head, my tomahawk, a sadist
Something bothers me about the laws stupid mister officer
Lack of manners, the lines of the Criminal Code between us are a barrier
Come on, come on, come on, come on, don't bite your tongue, Ramsay
Like a revolver on my head, my tomahawk, sadist
Something bothers me about the laws stupid mister officer
Lack of manners, the lines of the Criminal Code between us are a barrier
Come on, come on, come on, come on, don't bite your tongue, Ramsay