Большой893, Сын Венеры - Мама Москва
текст песни

This is for, this is for
This is my mom outside the window Moscow
This is, this is my mom outside the window Moscow
This is my mom outside the window Moscow
This is my
This is for, this is for
This is my mom outside the window Moscow
This is, this is my mom outside the window Moscow
This is my mom outside the window Moscow
This is my
This is for, this is for

This is an ordinary Nike bag
But in it is an extraordinary Mary
A couple of moments, and you see
Thousands of new constellations
Tattoo on the body, blizzards in the nostrils
Forgot your number in less than a week
R. I. P., brother
I'll light a candle
You are a legend
You are Machiavelli
If you didn't understand, I grow in a clearing
Along with flowers
Yesterday so sweetly
My little one smiled at me
It's getting light soon
I'm burning a dense water one at a time
I walk along the edge, and so I fly
From Hell to Heaven, I myself I choose
You know it
A day for two, a sleepless night
Spring again, my gums go numb
White snow fell to the ground
It came by itself, I wasn’t looking for it
Sweet cognac, loud music
Your style can be ordered on “Ozon”
I grew up where hundreds of churches
Inside me they fought evil
I had no illusions

Outside the window is my mother Moscow
This, this is outside the window is my mother Moscow
This is outside the window is my mother Moscow
This is outside the window is my
This is for, this is for
This is outside the window is my mother Moscow
This, this is outside the window is my mother Moscow
This is outside the window is my mother Moscow
This is outside the window is my
This is for, this is for

I crawl
Behind the wheel of my car
I swear
This city is not that
For you, well, from those that I was looking for
It’s neither warm nor cold here
And they don’t believe the words
Smoke flies out of the windows of buildings
And so everything was burning
And without a military campaign
View of capital
I dive into it
I merge with Moscow
In this morning smog

At this moment I am free
My space shines from the windows, yes
I am no longer a child
I flew high
Get me!
I played king of the mountain
To become a legend while I am alive
Atone for my sins
If there is a Paradise somewhere – show me!
Far from Somalia
But it still burns

These plants are the soul in the sky
But only there will be ninety-nine
Or more than a hundred
And these are not problems
And my mistakes
This is what I try to show
How to live

They still drown us
Responsible for the blood
This policeman
A world without victims is a utopia
But it gives me hope
My view from the window

This is my mother Moscow outside the window
This, this is my mother Moscow outside the window
This is my mother Moscow outside the window
This is my
This is for, this is for

This is my mother Moscow outside the window
This is my mother Moscow outside the window
This is my mother Moscow outside the window
This is my
This is for, this is for