Плут MC - Пульсы
текст песни

Check microphone check
Under the gram to taste
Check Check Check
In the Rubik's cube algorithm
Sound fucked up
The individual's eyelids, the individual's eyelids

Pulses beat to drams to taste
Fuck the shoes bend
On the dance floor the girls are curled up to fuck
The spectrum of feelings in the Rubik's cube algorithm
The sound is loud, yes, it's rough
A cappella sevam over the beat
Boom ramble, the load is packaged on a loop
I'll lead my mind
Post scriptum of the Mayan calendar
Just like that, a homemade motif hurts the ears
Set everything on fire, my friend
Remember our names only those in which
Self confident in the meat on stage
Secondary, Finding Nemo and Neo
(Hey yo yo)
Extra time, something that will harm everyone
Ayda chased after him, as they once wanted
Everything to make the world a little warmer
Not only in bed under the first
The duty recitative will not approve of the rank of epidenom
Fuck the smoke, feelings on the replay
Fuck the smoke, feelings on the replay

Pulses beat to drams to taste
On the dance floor the girls are curled up to fuck
Pulses beat under the gram to taste
On the dance floor the girls are curled up to fuck
Pulses beat to drams to taste
On the dance floor the girls are curled up to fuck
Pulses beat under the gram to taste
The individual's eyelids, the individual's eyelids

I'm sure your idol is cool
Whether it's Fuse or Cube
In my heart I don’t give a fuck what kind of game you started
But for sure, one of the two skiffs
Or a couple of minutes, everything around will be illuminated by a dream in reality
On the chess field, the usual order of pieces
Pawns and kings, enemies and friends
At the party the skins of beautiful curvy fools are rubbing
Oops, did I say that out loud?
It's hidden here even if I rub on abum
Vroom vroom, rhyme, like a chainsaw chops your head
Ho do you do, I blow like Scooby Doo
Word spreads from mouth to mouth
Banchat product from hand to hand
Steps along the edge, words from memory
So little time and many timers
Extra fawn, moral framework
Thoughts rally, dirty sound
An unrepeatable moment on the brink
Without pseudo heaven or hell
I'll be there, I'll be a bastard
I will fall and lose consciousness
Still the same under, still the same shell
Still the same finger who disagrees
Still the same shine in the eyes
Still the same area R-grad
Still the same Hap-Hap
Hap-Hap
Real fuсkin Hop
Real so hot
Hip-hop
Hip-hop fuсkin
Fucking Hop
Fucking Hop

Pulses beat to drams to taste
On the dance floor the girls are curled up to fuck
Pulses beat under the gram to taste
On the dance floor the girls are curled up to fuck
Pulses beat to drams to taste
On the dance floor the girls are curled up to fuck
Pulses beat under the gram to taste
The individual's eyelids, the individual's eyelids
Real fuсkin Hop
Pulses are beating
Hop
I'm sure your idol is cool
I'm sure your idol is cool