ПРОTESST, ИNVICTUZ, Басявый feat. ПАГАчевский - Местный
текст песни

I remain the same
Local in any area
I'm waiting for my loved ones to receive amnesty
Since the last arrest

I stand here on my own
I'm going to meet my enemies
The Almighty will ask me
When Stechkin asks them

The cops accepted us
More than once I've been exposed
To them only like a dog
Not at all humane

From the way we smoke
Rolls up his ears
To all tramps, tramps
Listen to the camps

I didn't fuck my conscience
All the time for human
We are brothers in life
We sipped our grief together

There is hopelessness
Let's find something to do
Growing up on the street
On yard terms

We're not stirring up problems
And we don’t muddy the waters
We don't shake hands
Mentovsky Judas

While the shoulder straps are somewhere
They are following us with their tails
We weave between
These concrete buildings


We have always been here, where you were is a mystery
In the evening - knead the dirt, in the morning - bed, exercises
It’s like a fairy tale here, in short, everything is fine with us
It doesn’t matter if it’s crap or crap, we cut it the right way, brother


I'm a local in this atmosphere, you won't believe it, but
The system strangles both man and beast equally
And I, like a black grouse, grabbed onto this branch
Do you want to maintain your health?!Start with your nerve cells
Bro, you need to take it yourself
And don’t stare at everyone greedily and drool from your mouth
Fuck, yes, well... well, yes, fuck, exactly, this world is so vicious
You put on your strong condom, but alas, you never finished
And everything that you once said, I will divide by two
Now these words are worthless, this is water
We have a lot of this gift, we all walk under God
It's so hard to cross the threshold with this vice
Fuck, I wouldn't give up until I reached the finals
But not everyone survives this race for cash
You thought of yourself as a human, but they called you a dung
So Russian roulette started playing in my head


Here the Slavs muther futher shield
Who is the last bit bursting at the seams here?
It's old, but not from wrinkles
God will forgive us this feat from his heights

I sewed Mariana with paper
And then a long time ago I reflashed the chip
I don't know how many people I screwed up there
I missed the smoke of wigs and cars everywhere

There is one magila for everyone and what do we share?
The passion of the pen beckoned to measure what he measured
Since childhood I believed in the street and God
And if you are ready, then make a bap, and we will check

Here the Slavs muther futher shield
Who is the last bit bursting at the seams here?
It's old, but not from wrinkles
God will forgive us this feat from his heights



We have always been here, where you were is a mystery
In the evening - knead the dirt, in the morning - bed, exercises
It’s like a fairy tale here, in short, everything is fine with us
It doesn’t matter if it’s crap or crap, we cut it the right way, brother