Кислый - Мерить гору линейкой
текст песни

The law infuriates me, as does the view from the windows—I’d love to take a blade to it all.
An empty shell of shackles, ancient and eternal; the RoboCop looms high above.
Along the perimeter, the groans of those not yet buried—
Those whose time hasn't run out yet; we flow along like a trickle.
Washing it all down with tea—a diuretic.
Straight talk is what’s prized here, not bullshit.
So, Macron—what’s the price of pasta? Milk not from a cow—it doesn't mess with the mind.
It gives me a buzz—it’s no bunk, pure as the Tarot.
Not for sale—these lines I gift away for free.
I hope they fit you just right,
Even if they don't serve as a crutch.
Hold out your cup, I’ll pour you as much as you want.
This hip-hop comes from the quick-witted crew.
We’re making it doper than ever before,
And you won't have a damn thing to say.
We doubled the bounce—rhyme-wise, we’re driving wild.
While you were shuffling your cards, I dropped in from the ceiling like a tidal wave.
There’s a river nearby, and a frigate sailing past.
Work done half-assed—it’s all so treacherous.
No magic grass grows here, and it’s no savanna all around—though I thought I saw an owl.
I painted landscapes, making them prettier with my words.
And even if it got a little wild in places...
We haven't changed—rustling like petals, not banknotes; otherwise, we’d be screwed.
Spring is coming soon—and I sing its praises in verse.
The noise has died down—and in the distance, my peyote is blooming.
A flight of thought—yo!
I won't deviate by a single jot.
Underground crew—copy?
I’m not screwing anyone over.
Stop trying to measure a mountain with a ruler.
Better go water a little bush.
There are fields and flowers all around.
Brother, stay healthy—don't get sick or start coughing.
Fertilize the soil—and later, it’ll reward us all.
Even if the end seems near,
We’re still riding high.
The real high isn't some "White Korean" stuff—it’s "White China."
It’s a Whale—not just a Chum salmon. On that note, I’m out—peace!