Шуменский - Не пропаганда
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Шуменский - Не пропаганда - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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[1]
Очередные 7 дней (7 дней) летят как очередь из АК
Оттолкнулся от дна бутылки и взлетел (эй-эй)
Очередные семь дней
Мой мир будто замкнут в Колизей
Но мысли летают над домами и я знаю
Что границы в голове и только небо им предел
(Так что ты чувствуешь?) Я чувствую свободу
Выдувая в окно прям на красном светофора (хахаха)
Эта дрянь для чемпионов, в мыслях план
И он маячит первым кровным миллионом
И я чувствую, я словно создан побеждать
Посмотри в мои глаза, они не устают сиять
Пусть им место, которое мы называем домом
Порой просто несёт безысходностью притонов
[]
А город этим дышит, это не пропаганда
Клянусь, не пропаганда
Как есть, мы так живем, это не пропаганда
В краях, где эта дрянь вместо антидепрессантов
Город зон, город заводов, город верных сыновей
Варим блоки и районы, все мы стали тут взрослей
Это шоу для наших братьев, сестёр, отцов, матерей
Если ты горд за этот город, то кричи еще сильней! (Эй-эй)
А город этим дышит, это не пропаганда
Не пропаганда
Это не пропаганда
В краях, где эта дрянь вместо антидепрессантов
Город зон, город заводов, город верных сыновей
Да, базара нет, здесь нечего ловить
Да, базара нет, здесь нечего ловить
Но этот город для меня могуществен как принц
[2]
Ведь те дороги ведут в улицы, в которых мы росли
Где мы учились уважать и оставаться людьми
Но как бывает, понимающий последствия возни
Хочет умело найти какой-то верный компромисс
Но, блять, какой-то дурак достанет свой ствол
Или не уследит за своим языком
Когда вопрос и так уже стоит ребром
Может получиться самый настоящий страйкбол
Мордой в пол, прогоните - ход дышит
Всё в силе мастер стилей, тройка дышек обездвижит
Со мной мои джигги, при нас букет плохих привычек
Но чо-чо к этой дряни не подпускали братишек
[Hook]
Ты знаешь, город этим дышит, это не пропаганда
Клянусь, не пропаганда
Как есть, мы так живем, это не пропаганда
В краях, где эта дрянь вместо антидепрессантов
Город зон, город заводов, город верных сыновей
Варим блоки и районы, все мы стали тут взрослей
Это шоу для наших братьев, сестёр, отцов, матерей
Если ты горд за этот город, то кричи еще сильней! (Эй-эй)
Очередные семь дней
Мой мир будто замкнут в Колизей
Но мысли летают над домами и я знаю
Что границы в голове и только небо им предел
Город этим дышит, это не пропаганда
Не пропаганда
Это не пропаганда
Не пропаганда
[one]
The next 7 days (7 days) fly like a queue from AK
He pushed off the bottom of the bottle and took off (hey-hey)
The next seven days
My world seems to be closed to the Colosseum
But thoughts fly over the houses and I know
That the boundaries are in the head and only the sky is the limit to them
(So what do you feel?) I feel freedom
Blowing out the window straight at a red traffic light (hahaha)
This rubbish for the champions, in thoughts plan
And he loomes the first blood million
And I feel like I was created to win
Look into my eyes, they don't get tired of shining
Let them call the place that we call the house
Sometimes it just carries the hopelessness of the brothels
[]
And the city breathes this, this is not propaganda
I swear not propaganda
As it is, we live like that, this is not propaganda
In the edges where this rubbish instead of antidepressants
City of zones, city of factories, city of faithful sons
Cook blocks and areas, we all became here adop
This is a show for our brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers
If you are proud of this city, then scream even stronger! (Hey Hey)
And the city breathes this, this is not propaganda
Not propaganda
This is not propaganda
In the edges where this rubbish instead of antidepressants
City of zones, city of factories, city of faithful sons
Yes, there is no bazaar, there is nothing to catch here
Yes, there is no bazaar, there is nothing to catch here
But this city is powerful to me as a prince
[2]
After all, those roads lead to the streets in which we grew up
Where we learned to respect and remain human
But as it happens, understanding the consequences of the
Wants to skillfully find some kind of correct compromise
But, fucking, some fool will get his trunk
Or will not keep track of his tongue
When the question is already standing an edge
It may turn out to be real strikbol
Face on the floor, drive away - the move breathes
Everything is in force of the master of styles, the three breaths immobilize
My jiggi is with me, with us a bouquet of bad habits
But Cho-Chu did not let the brothers let this rubbish
[HOOK]
You know, the city is breathing this, this is not propaganda
I swear not propaganda
As it is, we live like that, this is not propaganda
In the edges where this rubbish instead of antidepressants
City of zones, city of factories, city of faithful sons
Cook blocks and areas, we all became here adop
This is a show for our brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers
If you are proud of this city, then scream even stronger! (Hey Hey)
The next seven days
My world seems to be closed to the Colosseum
But thoughts fly over the houses and I know
That the boundaries are in the head and only the sky is the limit to them
The city breathes this, this is not propaganda
Not propaganda
This is not propaganda
Not propaganda
The next 7 days (7 days) fly like a queue from AK
He pushed off the bottom of the bottle and took off (hey-hey)
The next seven days
My world seems to be closed to the Colosseum
But thoughts fly over the houses and I know
That the boundaries are in the head and only the sky is the limit to them
(So what do you feel?) I feel freedom
Blowing out the window straight at a red traffic light (hahaha)
This rubbish for the champions, in thoughts plan
And he loomes the first blood million
And I feel like I was created to win
Look into my eyes, they don't get tired of shining
Let them call the place that we call the house
Sometimes it just carries the hopelessness of the brothels
[]
And the city breathes this, this is not propaganda
I swear not propaganda
As it is, we live like that, this is not propaganda
In the edges where this rubbish instead of antidepressants
City of zones, city of factories, city of faithful sons
Cook blocks and areas, we all became here adop
This is a show for our brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers
If you are proud of this city, then scream even stronger! (Hey Hey)
And the city breathes this, this is not propaganda
Not propaganda
This is not propaganda
In the edges where this rubbish instead of antidepressants
City of zones, city of factories, city of faithful sons
Yes, there is no bazaar, there is nothing to catch here
Yes, there is no bazaar, there is nothing to catch here
But this city is powerful to me as a prince
[2]
After all, those roads lead to the streets in which we grew up
Where we learned to respect and remain human
But as it happens, understanding the consequences of the
Wants to skillfully find some kind of correct compromise
But, fucking, some fool will get his trunk
Or will not keep track of his tongue
When the question is already standing an edge
It may turn out to be real strikbol
Face on the floor, drive away - the move breathes
Everything is in force of the master of styles, the three breaths immobilize
My jiggi is with me, with us a bouquet of bad habits
But Cho-Chu did not let the brothers let this rubbish
[HOOK]
You know, the city is breathing this, this is not propaganda
I swear not propaganda
As it is, we live like that, this is not propaganda
In the edges where this rubbish instead of antidepressants
City of zones, city of factories, city of faithful sons
Cook blocks and areas, we all became here adop
This is a show for our brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers
If you are proud of this city, then scream even stronger! (Hey Hey)
The next seven days
My world seems to be closed to the Colosseum
But thoughts fly over the houses and I know
That the boundaries are in the head and only the sky is the limit to them
The city breathes this, this is not propaganda
Not propaganda
This is not propaganda
Not propaganda