Knjas - Butterfly
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Knjas - Butterfly - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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Она была примерной особью женского пола,но
Канула в мечтах что б осыпью снова и снова,ей
Дарили розы, это были её личные грёзы.
Ныне меняет дозы на позы а матерь в слёзы.
Для сутенёра она козырь , и в морозы, в грозы -
Пляшет под дудку босса, как ребенок с Гамельна.
Совсем не правильно, что за провинность бьют её ногами,бля,
А как хотел наш мотылёк, порхая днями в коматозе?
(Фу) Живот без бабочек жиром оброс
И может больше даже не вставляло от душистых папирос?!
Ну не дарили роз, И ЧТО? Не зря же папик рос?!
Но она в падик на мороз ,от крэка - передоз
Прошло пол года,проститутке 20, куча ампул ,а...
На полу RedBull, поломан стул , на кисти пару штампов.
Она проснулась среди шлюх в пароме, крик и гул,
Готовы бабочки, для отправки на Стамбул
Вызубри уличный глоссарий жутких насекомых
Дабы при виде бабочек не впасть в кому
Ты думал они только на цветках или рисунках НО
Смертельным улиц атрибутом сделались давНо
Достал нож - так режь,контролируй речь,
Урегулируй ширину своих плечь , дабы не слечь
Ты в Гетто ман..
Даже в тумане жёлтом вижу злато - клептоман
И пусть закрыта виза долларам в карман.
Я наркоман - наркотик рэп, чернила - грамм, и на него
Мне на роду написано издать бестселлер...вам
Пускай мой образ непонятен,обесценен...Хлам
Но оцени , за пару лет я буду суверенен тут,
И мой маршрут толпы пройдут.
На дисках мой фотоэтюд.
А началось всё где-то там в гетто,
Там за пару грамм -
Сведены мечты парней на нет.
Готовят вам там Butterfly , для отправки на тот свет
Вызубри уличный глоссарий жутких насекомых
Дабы при виде бабочек не впасть в кому
Ты думал они только на цветках или рисунках НО
Смертельным улиц атрибутом сделались давно
Каракули и мысли , из не откуда вечерами.
Из-за кулис серой обыденности возникали.
Не справедливо , что ко мне, за что ?!Именно в мою башню.
Перо остановись !! Князю страшно.
И так уже на полку от тягот я зубы положил
Ну где же куражи? мне расскажи , одни лишь миражи.
Обещанные где масло с икрой от жизни госпожи?
Рябина,комбижир Рискни и откажись ( не ссы! )
Что если там, на небе нам якобы мудрый старый дед
Судьбы всем чертежи подсунул , где расписан наш удел
Быть в розовых очках , с протянутой ладонью жить
И руки связаны по швам что б только по теченью плыть
Такого склада, сука, всех подобных мука ждёт в конце
И вряд ли тот кто меня понял проскрипит бытьё в дворце
Ведь в наше время не душа скорей важна а украшение...
ИТОГ???!
Тоскайте бабочки лучше на шее.
She was a sample female individual, but
I sunk in my dreams that I would crumble again and again, to her
Given roses, these were her personal dreams.
Now changing doses to poses and mother in tears.
For a pimp, she is a trump card, and in frosts, in thunderstorms -
Dance under the boss’s tune, like a child with a gamel.
It’s not at all right, what kind of offense they beat her with their feet, fucking,
And how did our bloodworming want, flutting for days in coma?
(Fu) stomach without butterflies overgrown
And maybe no longer even inserted from fragrant cigarettes?!
Well, they didn’t give roses, so what? No wonder the papik grew?!
But she is in the paddle in the cold, from Crak - an overdose
Half a year has passed, a prostitute 20, a bunch of ampoules, and ...
On the floor is redbull, a broken chair, a couple of stamps on the hand.
She woke up among the whores in a ferry, scream and hum,
Ready butterflies for sending to Istanbul
I am collecting street glossary of terrible insects
So that at the sight of butterflies, do not fall into a coma
You thought they were only on flowers or drawings but
The fatal streets have been attributed for a long time
I took out a knife - so cut, control the speech,
Set the width of your shoulder, so as not to tear
You are in the ghetto man ..
Even in the fog, I see Zlato - kleptomaniac
And let the visa be closed to the dollars in a pocket.
I am a drug addict - a drug rap, ink - a gram, and on it
It is written to me to publish a bestseller ...
Let my image are incomprehensible, impaired ... rubbish
But assess, in a couple of years I will be sovereign here,
And my route of the crowds will pass.
On disks is my photo story.
And it all started somewhere in the ghetto,
There for a couple of grams -
The guys' dreams have been reduced to naught.
Prepare you there butterfly there, for sending to the next world
I am collecting street glossary of terrible insects
So that at the sight of butterflies, do not fall into a coma
You thought they were only on flowers or drawings but
The fatal streets have been attributed for a long time
Karakuli and thoughts, from nowhere in the evenings.
Due to the curtains of gray everyday life arose.
It is not fair to me, for what?! It is in my tower.
Stop the feather !! The prince is scary.
And so already on the shelf from the hardships, I put my teeth
Well, where are the courses? Tell me only mirages.
The promised where the oil with the caviar from the life of the lady?
Mountain ash, combiver risk and refuse (do not sink!)
What if there, in the sky we are supposedly wise old grandfather
Fate slipped the drawings to everyone, where our destiny is painted
Be in pink glasses, with outstretched palm to live
And the hands are tied at the seams that there would only swim
Such a warehouse, a bitch, all such flour awaits at the end
And it is unlikely that the one who understood me will creak in the palace
After all, in our time, it is not a soul that is not important, but decoration ...
The result ???!
Line butterflies better on the neck.
I sunk in my dreams that I would crumble again and again, to her
Given roses, these were her personal dreams.
Now changing doses to poses and mother in tears.
For a pimp, she is a trump card, and in frosts, in thunderstorms -
Dance under the boss’s tune, like a child with a gamel.
It’s not at all right, what kind of offense they beat her with their feet, fucking,
And how did our bloodworming want, flutting for days in coma?
(Fu) stomach without butterflies overgrown
And maybe no longer even inserted from fragrant cigarettes?!
Well, they didn’t give roses, so what? No wonder the papik grew?!
But she is in the paddle in the cold, from Crak - an overdose
Half a year has passed, a prostitute 20, a bunch of ampoules, and ...
On the floor is redbull, a broken chair, a couple of stamps on the hand.
She woke up among the whores in a ferry, scream and hum,
Ready butterflies for sending to Istanbul
I am collecting street glossary of terrible insects
So that at the sight of butterflies, do not fall into a coma
You thought they were only on flowers or drawings but
The fatal streets have been attributed for a long time
I took out a knife - so cut, control the speech,
Set the width of your shoulder, so as not to tear
You are in the ghetto man ..
Even in the fog, I see Zlato - kleptomaniac
And let the visa be closed to the dollars in a pocket.
I am a drug addict - a drug rap, ink - a gram, and on it
It is written to me to publish a bestseller ...
Let my image are incomprehensible, impaired ... rubbish
But assess, in a couple of years I will be sovereign here,
And my route of the crowds will pass.
On disks is my photo story.
And it all started somewhere in the ghetto,
There for a couple of grams -
The guys' dreams have been reduced to naught.
Prepare you there butterfly there, for sending to the next world
I am collecting street glossary of terrible insects
So that at the sight of butterflies, do not fall into a coma
You thought they were only on flowers or drawings but
The fatal streets have been attributed for a long time
Karakuli and thoughts, from nowhere in the evenings.
Due to the curtains of gray everyday life arose.
It is not fair to me, for what?! It is in my tower.
Stop the feather !! The prince is scary.
And so already on the shelf from the hardships, I put my teeth
Well, where are the courses? Tell me only mirages.
The promised where the oil with the caviar from the life of the lady?
Mountain ash, combiver risk and refuse (do not sink!)
What if there, in the sky we are supposedly wise old grandfather
Fate slipped the drawings to everyone, where our destiny is painted
Be in pink glasses, with outstretched palm to live
And the hands are tied at the seams that there would only swim
Such a warehouse, a bitch, all such flour awaits at the end
And it is unlikely that the one who understood me will creak in the palace
After all, in our time, it is not a soul that is not important, but decoration ...
The result ???!
Line butterflies better on the neck.
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