Чёрная Экономика, Mesr - Дети полумрака
текст песни

Children of the twilight, sneaky perspective
Since childhood, fans from Kri Karakul
The authors of the paintings, hands in the paint on the elbow!
Pigment with the pressure of the pore of the fence will absorb
My album is not soon, my long -term construction
Across the stream marching
Times are not the same, but bro, put R.O. them!
There are three on the studio - the old spirit of Destro!
We have been written off for a long time - for a long time they harnessed the sled!
Golden times of a movement in old pictures froze!
You will raise your memory, staika-prose
What a blind man to collect the details of the mosaic!
As one of the options, to hack from a spoon of tar
There were those who burned those
Children paint their nails, do not understand Tiktok
Who saw a change of eras, washing sweat with optics
Cone -jacket, cherry -colored sunset
More often in the twilight, the visor is lower
Khaki color cap, briefly trimmed
With a leisurely step, I wandering past cell tower
Under the sight of cameras, eyes like red carry
Night Randev - City Safari
There is a pair of any creature - diversity!
Black economy - modern classics
How in the good old we go as accomplices
Wall - reinforced concrete, windows - plastic
The background focuses, crumbled-acid-green
White on the glare, black contour and pouring chromium
We are not familiar, I will leave in English quietly
The dim light of lanterns, the soundtrack from the taxi driver. Exit
From the dungeon. Back and back!
The main thing is to leave a mark on the city map of the city!
The dim and rainy city is filled with rot
Like the pie is cut, cut is exhausted
People spectators stuffed with fillers
Silent just right, yielding to the tunic
Past cameras, bypassing traffic lights
Creators of cool ideas are difficult in corridors
Representatives of layers of cultural
It is difficult to collect a sketch for life from a handful of fragments
Bright colors leave the sky
Overgrown palette rot and not the same
That now it is difficult to love
I will click on the record so as not to forget
Without comfortable frames, without someone's permission
Painting on houses in alternative management
You will see, to be careful
And reach for freedom, like a nursing mother
I remember the times when the shine, but not for us
We sprayed our names on the panel
Everywhere they knocked out the shaft and everything broke in half
But we were thrown through life, like Badminton Volan
Now all the values are tramps, everything around the sake of dough
And there is no more warmth, everything burned out there
And the date is not the same boilers, a new broom flows in a new way!
Do not pick up here, bro, more amusing Bitla!
But there is nothing to be surprised here, we ourselves sow the poor
Stuck in a heap of advertisements, knowing their insidious plan
We still have it!
And in the afternoon with fire you will not find any logic in it!
And we all walk the horse, in the windows against the background of the district
A piece on my house! Until the edges are visible!
We are going further, as before, our people wave us
Together we fill your souls again like bowls
Our road is the same! The air is also not packed!