беребумба - Ок, Гугл
текст песни

As a child, I was struck by lightning.
Now I often read at a faster pace.
And after being bitten by a dog.
I became more frantic than I used to be.
Sometimes the beat blows my mind so much.
It feels like a straitjacket.
People in lab coats would put me in it.
But I won't give up without a fight, damn it.
Let them manage to pin me down.
I'll keep reading, because I'm not sane.
Let them take me somewhere and inject me with drugs.
They're unlikely to calm me down.
And even use electric shock.
I don't care, it'll sting a little.
Tired of me, they'll say, oh well.
He's had enough and they'll discharge me.
Yeah, fuck, it's a little exercise, nothing new.
Why sit there like I'm at a funeral?
It's like a cure for boredom.
I can read like this to any sound.
Be it snoring in the vestibule or splashing in the bathtub.
Or a dog barking, it all creates a normal tempo.
If there's no beat, that's no big deal either.
I get fired up with a half-kick, it'll do.
Sometimes I hear: "Your rap is crap."
There are only rappers in the country, hundreds, thousands of them.
You're still joining these ranks, rap, beats.
You should have done something else.
You still couldn't find your place.
Where else could you be useful?
But still, there's nothing cooler.
When Mike's on, it'll be here right now.

Okay, Google.
Okay, Google.
Who is this, why is he there?
He laid it out so that everyone was stunned?
Okay, Google.
Okay, Google.
Where did that dude come from?
What's his name, Berebumba, or am I confused? Okay, Google
Okay, Google
Who is this, and why is he even here?
He's been so blunt that everyone's speechless?
Okay, Google
Okay, Google
Where did that guy come from?
What's his name again?

This fresh beat has whetted my appetite
My instinct is telling me to lay something down again
This is an experimental field where I conduct experiments
Here I have accumulated the experience I've gained over the years and
I rhyme 25 hours a day
At work and on the minibus, those around me are terrified
Well, why should I observe etiquette
When I was born with a microphone in my hand
I love to spout rhymed nonsense
No need to be shy - Ivan Dorn sang
And I followed suit, although I was misunderstood
Running naked in public, officers in uniforms
Almost loaded me into a van
Fast legs are the reason that
Again, free, I rap like crazy
While rhymes are pouring out to me
And in the world of rap, times of stagnation
While old names feast at the feast
There's nothing new to say
In this kingdom, it's as if the lights went out
There haven't been any coups for a long time, and over the years
No one has spoken about those who rebelled in the swamp Remembers
Everyone seemed accustomed to the calm period
But, like in a winter cherry tree, something is about to flare up
Long ago, in a modest, unremarkable family
In one of the dots on the map—a small spot
Someone was born who developed abilities
To become stronger than Kostya Tszyu
No one saw in him a power imbued
Comparable to Hiroshima or a Godzilla strike
But it lived within him, biding its time
Who is this—the hero of the story? Who can tell?

Who is this guy? Who is this guy?
Who is this guy? Will someone explain it to me?
Who is this guy? Seriously, who is this guy?
Who is this guy? Well, who, who, who is this guy?

Okay, Google
Okay, Google
Who is this guy, why is he
Did he make such a mess that everyone was stunned?
Okay, Google
Okay, Google
Where did that guy come from?
What's his name anyway?