Михаил Воровской - Не питаю иллюзий
текст песни

You know, brother, life is like that.
I used to believe it, now I just know.
This city isn't Hollywood.
Castles in the air don't last long here.

I grew up where the asphalt is cracked.
Where brotherly love is more precious than promised.
Where they laughed so loudly to hide their melancholy.
Seeing off their youth to the sound of a dial tone.
We were taught not by school desks, but by back alleys.
Whoever was a nobody is now in the top 100.
And whoever flew burned to the ground.
Life is a tin can, brother, a game.

I've seen too much to believe words.
And I've lost too much not to believe deeds.
And I've often watched faces change.
How easily a friend can turn into a Judas.
How convenient deception is treated as truth here.
Everyone is their own god, everyone is their own master.
I've absorbed this smoke, this cold concrete.
I've learned to appreciate the silence of the phone.
And when I They're shouting, "Everything will be okay."
I nod, but I only believe in myself.

I have no illusions—I've had enough.
This world isn't a shop window, but a cold entryway.
Here, luck is a capricious lady.
And the soul is all scarred, the soul is all scarred.
I have no illusions, and don't fall for them.
While this life is spinning in the player,
Just do what you must and be who you are.
This is my manifesto. This is my honor.

The world flies, Instagrams, Telegram, and Stories.
Only people—the same sins can't be washed away.
They raise their hands when you're on the rise.
They forget your number when you're in the swamp.
Every friend will say, "Bro, respect!" to you.
But behind your back, he hisses like a rotten viper.
I remain silent. I smile back.
I learned to filter this nonsense a long time ago.

I don't need fake smiles and flattery.
I I've seen how honor was used to make news
How love was sold for ordinary comfort
And then they were left with nothing—that's the lesson
Better the bitter truth than a sweet lie
Better to be alone than to be stabbed in the back
This rap isn't for the charts, it's for those who understand
Who bears their burden simply and silently

And at night, when the city grows quiet
You know, the soul still boils
I want to believe, just like in childhood, in simple terms
That it wasn't in vain that we walked barefoot around this circle
That it wasn't in vain that we walked these concrete
We tore our voices apart on guitar strumming
Oh, I wish I could sing it long enough to bring tears
But time has passed, It's all too serious

I have no illusions—I've had enough
This world isn't a shop window, but a cold entryway
Here, luck is a capricious lady
And the soul is all scarred, the soul is all scarred
I don't I have no illusions, and don't fall for them.
While this life is spinning in the player,
Just do what you must and be who you are.
This is my manifesto. This is my honor.

And even if not everything I once wanted came true,
But I haven't sold my soul to passions or empty promises.
I have no illusions—but I haven't lost myself.
Even if the world breaks me at times, I've pulled myself together again.
Even if there's autumn and wind in my heart, I'm moving forward.
As long as there's a spark burning in my chest, it will save me.