Рем Ди ,The Chemodan - Внутри меня
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А за окном люди работают на улей,
В стране полная жопа, а я люблю худую.
Ну а хули, мы еб*шим здравой сатирой,
И мы придумали пулю, чтоб делать в себе дыры .
Спроси меня: "Почему именно рэп и YO?",
Моя скульптура крива, картина – мазня.
И вся эта возня в стенах института
Не для меня, для меня еб*шить в майк круто
Этим утром, обнаружив, прих*ел плотно:
Кубиков нет в торсе, но есть 100 тысяч просмотров
Мне ещё немного строк из гранита высечь
И на следующей недели будет 300 тысяч.
Ну а как ты там, братан, веря небесам,
Ведёт из облаков рука или делаешь сам?
Мы намерено мерим, погружаясь на дно.
Я уверен, что верю, но не уверен во что.
Но нас тут много и нас тут не жалко,
Я не маста, просто больной фанатик с майком.
Течёт рэпчина, пока не нашли на свалке,
Попытки жалки – не ходи к гадалке .
Себя не поменял на кожу и в душе
Слышь, ты внутри меня. Да завали уже.
Ну его насовсем, на*уй этот мех мне
G.Луи, Дигга Рем, ну-ка руки вверх все, все.
Рем Дигга & The Chemodan:
Кто-то там есть внутри меня...
Кто-то там есть внутри меня.
Кто-то там есть внутри меня...
Кто-то там есть внутри меня.
Рем Дигга:
Я рождённый в городе теней и спин,
Где верным правилом будет лозунг один:"Не дрейфь, сын, сильней рви"
Негоже никак давать тут немым себе быть,
Сидеть, ныть, постареть и в скелет, в пыль.
Если философ только с языком,
Строки – правильный закон между моргом и молоком.
Каждый уникален, не повторим,
Но на весь улей стульев не хватит – нас двое зашло, но сядет один.
Звёздочка, лети,
Я загадаю желание мимо жизни своей не пройти.
Ведь я же параноик, Синдбад,
Люди, я же старый хроник и гад.
Люди, я думаю о многом, о многом текста,
Но кто-то другим путём идёт, я не трогал тех зад.
Путёвки ничем не похожи наши, я нем для прохожих даже,
Малым знал - разведёт все дороги детсад.
Да мне бы, чтобы веру мою не съел страх
Рабочий понедельник, январь, иней на губах.
Мимо летит жизнь или стоит здесь и замерзает,
О чём ты, Дигга? Я сам не знаю
Мы тут на параллелях с Че и в руках микрофоны,
Нас увековечат тэйки, будто важный лик на фото.
Мир – он вот он, и я пускаю тараканов тайком.
Да? В моём окне мой первый альбом.
В моём окне мой первый альбом...
В моём окне мой первый альбом...
Кто-то там есть, кто-то там есть...
And outside the window people work on the hive,
In the country a full ass, and I love Houdua.
Well, huli, we fuck * Wheat Sassila,
And we came up with a bullet to make holes in it.
Ask me: "Why is Rap and Yo?",
My sculpture of Kriva, painting - Maznia.
And this whole is in the walls of the Institute
Not for me, for me fuck * sew in Mike cool
This morning, finding, if * eating tight:
Cubes are not in the torso, but there are 100 thousand views
I still a little lines from granite carve
And next week there will be 300 thousand.
Well, how are you there, bro, believing heaven,
Leads a hand from the clouds or do it yourself?
We intend to Merim, plunging at the bottom.
I am sure that I believe, but not sure what.
But there are a lot of us here and we are not sorry here,
I am not Mast, just a sick fanatic with Mike.
Rapin flows until they found on the landfill,
Attempts of pathetic - do not go to the fortuneteller.
Did not change myself on the skin and in the soul
Hear you inside me. Yes, they poured already.
Well, his comes, on * Yi this fur
G.Lui, Digga Rem, well, the hands up everything, everything.
Rem Digga & The Chemodan:
Someone is there inside me ...
Someone is there inside me.
Someone is there inside me ...
Someone is there inside me.
Rem Digga:
I was born in the city of Shadows and Spin,
Where the right rule will be the slogan one: "It's not drift, son, stronger RVI"
Heaven like to give me a dumb to be,
Sit, whine, point and in the skeleton, in dust.
If the philosopher is only with the language,
Rows - the right law between the morgue and milk.
Everyone is unique, do not repeat,
But the chairs are not enough for all the hive - we have gone two, but one will sit down.
Star, fly,
I will make a desire by my life not pass.
After all, I'm paranoid, Sinbad,
People, I'm an old chronicle and reptile.
People, I think about a lot about the text of the text,
But someone else goes to another, I did not touch those ass.
The trips are nothing like ours, I even don't even
Small knew - all the roads of kindergarten explores.
Yes, I would not eat my faith
Work Monday, January, Ines on the lips.
Life flies by or stands here and freezes,
What are you, Digga? I do not know
We are here on the parallels with che and in the hands of microphones,
We are perpetuated by Takeka, as if an important face in the photo.
The world is he here, and I let the cockroaches secretly.
Yes? In my window my first album.
In my window my first album ...
In my window my first album ...
Someone is there, someone is there ...
In the country a full ass, and I love Houdua.
Well, huli, we fuck * Wheat Sassila,
And we came up with a bullet to make holes in it.
Ask me: "Why is Rap and Yo?",
My sculpture of Kriva, painting - Maznia.
And this whole is in the walls of the Institute
Not for me, for me fuck * sew in Mike cool
This morning, finding, if * eating tight:
Cubes are not in the torso, but there are 100 thousand views
I still a little lines from granite carve
And next week there will be 300 thousand.
Well, how are you there, bro, believing heaven,
Leads a hand from the clouds or do it yourself?
We intend to Merim, plunging at the bottom.
I am sure that I believe, but not sure what.
But there are a lot of us here and we are not sorry here,
I am not Mast, just a sick fanatic with Mike.
Rapin flows until they found on the landfill,
Attempts of pathetic - do not go to the fortuneteller.
Did not change myself on the skin and in the soul
Hear you inside me. Yes, they poured already.
Well, his comes, on * Yi this fur
G.Lui, Digga Rem, well, the hands up everything, everything.
Rem Digga & The Chemodan:
Someone is there inside me ...
Someone is there inside me.
Someone is there inside me ...
Someone is there inside me.
Rem Digga:
I was born in the city of Shadows and Spin,
Where the right rule will be the slogan one: "It's not drift, son, stronger RVI"
Heaven like to give me a dumb to be,
Sit, whine, point and in the skeleton, in dust.
If the philosopher is only with the language,
Rows - the right law between the morgue and milk.
Everyone is unique, do not repeat,
But the chairs are not enough for all the hive - we have gone two, but one will sit down.
Star, fly,
I will make a desire by my life not pass.
After all, I'm paranoid, Sinbad,
People, I'm an old chronicle and reptile.
People, I think about a lot about the text of the text,
But someone else goes to another, I did not touch those ass.
The trips are nothing like ours, I even don't even
Small knew - all the roads of kindergarten explores.
Yes, I would not eat my faith
Work Monday, January, Ines on the lips.
Life flies by or stands here and freezes,
What are you, Digga? I do not know
We are here on the parallels with che and in the hands of microphones,
We are perpetuated by Takeka, as if an important face in the photo.
The world is he here, and I let the cockroaches secretly.
Yes? In my window my first album.
In my window my first album ...
In my window my first album ...
Someone is there, someone is there ...