Botanique - Музыка
текст песни

Music is doping, and it all repeats itself again
On stage, the pros—masters of ceremony and words
A stone center, wet streets
We are familiar with the recipes, the ones that would earn a Pulitzer
The neighborhood is filled with jazz notes
Rap classics will emerge through a window
This is the foundation, the basics like charcoal drawings
My call sign is Botanist Tanya, can you hear me?
Yeeee Chef's specials, haute cuisine
I pulled the trigger, my hip-hop is an eternal traveler
Somewhere in the sky on a jet or at sea on a ship
It's a landmark like a searchlight in the gray whirlpool of everyday life
Fates are connected by an invisible thread
My stories are like cogs in this vessel
Where all the viewers are searching for the essence
In electronic media and requests, who are the judges? Who am I without you, my music?
My heartbeat is the sound of attraction.
Who am I without you, my music?
Revelation is my soul's salvation!
Look for me on newspaper posters
I hardly invented anything, but I've found my niche
The years fly by, faster than the Sapsan
What's happening would have freaked out Maupassant
I've thrown you some style into the common fund
We're experimenting with how to rise on old yeast
Raindrops hit the roofs of cars
Zombie society—living by the leader's precepts
We're in a world where hatred is the norm
Where the Belly incident has become identical to porn incidents
Where shells stubbornly iron
Pulling people in bedrooms, living rooms, restrooms
Only old jazz warms me
That was mixed into rap like thyme in a teapot
If the beat plays, it's not the end
After all, in this world, only music has no boundaries
Who am I without you, my music
The beating of a heart—the sounds of attraction
Who am I without you, my music
Revelation—the salvation of my soul!