IntroVert - Математик
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IntroVert - Математик - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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Ты слышал ноты, я - герцы. Интересно, помнишь детство?
Я - тот ботаник-интроверт, что жил по соседству.
Юный киборг, типа Маугли Киплинга,
Но воспитанный не дикими тиграми, а безликими книгами.
"Хочу как все! - орал сорванным голосом,
Бухать и блевать, плевать на Сороса, на МГУ!
Все ваши вузы пусть горят в аду!
Во сне я Ломоносова видел, мама, он вертелся в гробу!"
"Вова, есть вещи, ты должен понять, их поздно менять:
Рождённый летать не родня любителям ползать!" Меня
Глаголы тоже бесят, но как я своё ботанское детство,
Ты должен их просто принять!
Как синус, ограничен, линеен, как функция.
Силюсь быть органичным, но потеряны чувства.
Сдохни, царица наук, мои глаза погасли!
Встречай нового жителя дивного мира Хаксли!
Припев
Песенка спета, только не аплодируют зрители.
Моя задачка посчитана, будто грязные деньги.
На этом празднике жира я - растворитель,
Я - нулевой делитель в этом произведении.
Ты шёл за белым кроликом, он завёл тебя в задницу,
Теперь и ты белый, словно из морозильника.
Здравствуй, Нео! Будь как дома, ты в Матрице,
Среди вертикально бегущих зелёных символов.
Числа против меня, погадаем на гуще кофейной:
Почему я за четыре года собрал четырнадцать фэнов?
Они в любой из бесед ответят, я опопсел,
И всё время кошу, будто держу не майк, а серп,
Куплеты - скучные проповеди и лекции,
Я заблудился на сцене - моё место в НИИ!
"Творчество - не экзамен, профессора с усами
Потерпят фиаско - музыку не описать иксами!"
Но меня нет без формул, как торчка без наркоты.
Ты слышишь ноту, я - вижу график частоты.
Я был когда-то как и ты, теперь мои чувства мертвы,
И я уже не тот, но я давно привык...
Вы где-то правы, но я всё же буду при своём.
Мы приз даём себе, когда себя же признаём.
Да, математик во мне убил поэта,
Но что поделать, если не смогли ужиться мы вдвоём?
Припев
Я насмотрелся Лоста, но я не стал загадкой, дайте Оскар
За предсказуемость моих квадратов!
Я - эхо девяностых.
Слышишь на фоне скрипки? Во мне погиб Чайковский.
Мой стиль научно обоснован, как матан, я - Коши хип-хопа.
Я постоянен, как три целых четырнадцать сотых.
Подобны сессии будут мои концерты,
К чёрту билеты, пройдут лишь те, кто вели конспекты.
Мелодия в миноре, рояль на фоне...
Сегодня похороны, во мне умер Бетховен,
Мне до него - как до Германии раком,
Мне не сонаты писать, а только музыку к крякам.
Ещё во мне умерли Ингви, Честер из Линкин Парка,
Это исповедь панка, я - кладбИще музыкантов!
Давай заглушим траур водкой,
От моего рэпа меня тошнит, будто я принял рвотное.
You heard notes, I am the Hertz. I wonder if you remember childhood?
I am that botanist-introvert that lived next door.
Young cyborg, such as Mowgli Kipling,
But brought up not wild tigers, but faceless books.
"I want everything! - Oral by torn voice,
Boo and bleak, spit on Soros, at Moscow State University!
All your universities let them burn in hell!
In a dream, I saw Lomonosov, Mom, he spit into the coffin! "
"Vova, there are things, you must understand, it's late to change them:
Born fly not relatives to lovers crawle! "Me
The verbs are also furious, but as I am my Botan childhood,
You have to just take them!
As sinus, limited, linear, as a function.
Silly be organic, but lost feelings.
Sdokhni, Queen Science, my eyes went out!
Meet the new resident of the Wing World of Huxley!
Chorus
Song of the Sveta, just do not applaud the audience.
My task is counted, as if dirty money.
At this festival, the fat I am a solvent,
I am a zero divider in this work.
You walked behind a white rabbit, he started you in the ass,
Now you are white, as if from the freezer.
Hello, neo! Be as at home, you are in the matrix,
Among the vertically running green characters.
Numbers against me, we pay on the thick of the coffee:
Why did I collected fourteen fans in four years?
They will answer any of the conversations, I posed,
And all the time the koss, as if I keep not Mike, and the sickle,
Purchases - boring sermons and lectures,
I got lost on stage - my place in the research institute!
"Creativity is not an exam, professor with mustache
Fiaisko will be injured - not to describe the ICSA! "
But I am not without formulas, like sticking without drugs.
You hear a note, I - I see a frequency schedule.
I was once like you, now my feelings are dead,
And I'm not the one, but I have long used to ...
You are right somewhere, but I will still be with my own.
We give yourself a prize when you recognize yourself.
Yes, the mathematician killed a poet in me,
But what to do, if we could not get along together?
Chorus
I looked at the LAST, but I did not become a mystery, give an Oscar
For the predictability of my squares!
I am the echo of the nineties.
Do you hear on the background of the violin? I died in Tchaikovsky.
My style is scientifically justified as Matan, I - Cauchy Hip-hop.
I am constant as three whole fourteen hundredths.
This session will be my concerts,
For black tickets, only those who led abstracts will be held.
Melody in Minor, piano on the background ...
Today the funeral, Beethoven died in me,
I am to him - like a cancer to Germany,
I do not write sonatas, but only music to quacks.
Inguvi, Chester from Linkin Park died in me
This is a panka confession, I am a Cemetery of Musicians!
Let's drown out mourning vodka,
From my rap my rap sick, as if I took a vomit.
I am that botanist-introvert that lived next door.
Young cyborg, such as Mowgli Kipling,
But brought up not wild tigers, but faceless books.
"I want everything! - Oral by torn voice,
Boo and bleak, spit on Soros, at Moscow State University!
All your universities let them burn in hell!
In a dream, I saw Lomonosov, Mom, he spit into the coffin! "
"Vova, there are things, you must understand, it's late to change them:
Born fly not relatives to lovers crawle! "Me
The verbs are also furious, but as I am my Botan childhood,
You have to just take them!
As sinus, limited, linear, as a function.
Silly be organic, but lost feelings.
Sdokhni, Queen Science, my eyes went out!
Meet the new resident of the Wing World of Huxley!
Chorus
Song of the Sveta, just do not applaud the audience.
My task is counted, as if dirty money.
At this festival, the fat I am a solvent,
I am a zero divider in this work.
You walked behind a white rabbit, he started you in the ass,
Now you are white, as if from the freezer.
Hello, neo! Be as at home, you are in the matrix,
Among the vertically running green characters.
Numbers against me, we pay on the thick of the coffee:
Why did I collected fourteen fans in four years?
They will answer any of the conversations, I posed,
And all the time the koss, as if I keep not Mike, and the sickle,
Purchases - boring sermons and lectures,
I got lost on stage - my place in the research institute!
"Creativity is not an exam, professor with mustache
Fiaisko will be injured - not to describe the ICSA! "
But I am not without formulas, like sticking without drugs.
You hear a note, I - I see a frequency schedule.
I was once like you, now my feelings are dead,
And I'm not the one, but I have long used to ...
You are right somewhere, but I will still be with my own.
We give yourself a prize when you recognize yourself.
Yes, the mathematician killed a poet in me,
But what to do, if we could not get along together?
Chorus
I looked at the LAST, but I did not become a mystery, give an Oscar
For the predictability of my squares!
I am the echo of the nineties.
Do you hear on the background of the violin? I died in Tchaikovsky.
My style is scientifically justified as Matan, I - Cauchy Hip-hop.
I am constant as three whole fourteen hundredths.
This session will be my concerts,
For black tickets, only those who led abstracts will be held.
Melody in Minor, piano on the background ...
Today the funeral, Beethoven died in me,
I am to him - like a cancer to Germany,
I do not write sonatas, but only music to quacks.
Inguvi, Chester from Linkin Park died in me
This is a panka confession, I am a Cemetery of Musicians!
Let's drown out mourning vodka,
From my rap my rap sick, as if I took a vomit.
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