Ex-Temple T-One - Fake Culture
текст песни

I come in, click, tap
I see your video, right?
There's a default hip-hop
But for some reason the shit is blazing

Stretching since 2k12
Tracks for brotherhood.Street, music, labor - this is a cool mask
Hide the fuckery from view

Truth-teller, but without conflict
Whatever the move is, it’s safe
Again you put on filters
Show a difficult world, but like something out of a fairy tale

Twelve years no problem
The guy with the money gave out a rap again
This is a street for the little ones
After all, people don’t get bullied about them

and your happy fucker triggers me
Nikita Mastyak - bachelor from the cage
You're a shitty bartender, dumb as a plug, because
They ask you for "Shots", you say Normal

Why are you bald, plaki-plaki?
Lines like tears flow onto notebooks
I want to go up, but I’m always a candidate
The streets are here, they don't give a fuck about your rap

Hip-hop, tik-tok, billboard
Everything is going great, fill it up, yap
After all, while it’s warm, light, there’s a home
It's chilly, it's easy to hum

Battle with Goukilla - huila with terpila
You have the gift of speaking dull
Substitution of concepts as the correct conclusion
Feeder for complete morons

And I didn’t give a damn that my rap rap is straight rap rap
This is straight rap rap music
My whole life is a bitch - rap music, no
To warm people's ears with this crap is nonsense

There's a problem with your board soldering
Again I put one canvas on the frames
I'm a beat teacher, and I banged the buff
To remind this flock what smell smells like

You've fucked yourself up, this pathos is exaggerated
Your stupid movies are not worth a ruble
I don't give a fuck - a real tutor
How to prescribe yourself for oral administration

I'm a fucking uber, you're a big-nosed dobie
I dump garbage, it's my hobby
And while Noby fills me with magnifying glasses
Whoever stretches out their hands, everyone will stretch out their feet

There is love in the heart, not trash
So that the cockroach dies, but not the bug head
Juice will flow from you, bitch, push it
I change my flow like AK horns, wake up

I don’t need support for clay mixers, there’s no place for a potter’s wheel
I climbed into the kitchen, for me the path of the meat cutter is the whole essence, like iron in the sound of strings


You can't handle this music, musician
You have tracks - a dose of anesthesia to put you to sleep
It’s not that bad, but, God, where’s the vibe already?
And you say that making music is your destiny.Fucking

Who do you want to compete pussies with?
You're confident, but you're not sincere
Your highest goal is very low
It's disgusting that you put yourself out there like this

And he wanted to live
right by the road, oh right by the road, oh right by the road
He spent a lot of energy, and again at the threshold

I'm a gear grinder and a mover in the world
This fagot I put whatever comes out across
To you.I'm not coming here to win, I'm coming here for a kill
It's not the evaporator that smokes inside me, it's the pot that's cooking

I still don't care about these things about culture
It’s as if your mother was able to launch you by the cheek
In contrast to this type, I lay dicks on the whole world
I'll fuck until all the empty sheets run out

They cast you for me, but they made the right decision
I take you like a girl that looks like a guy
You are a spice without pepper, it doesn’t burn like chicken curry
I'm fucking up the tracks like I'm in Huracan

Among a million faces, what would a top artist choose?
You are building a road down to complete populism
I am music without borders, you are a musical cornice
I see actresses in you, you see life behind me