Lipatip - По дворам
текст песни

He blows up half the house, and Mom is worried,
But you sleep peacefully, I'll be back not too late,
He saved a green bottle for tomorrow,
To watch the sunsets with his brother.

Forgive me, Mom, all my outbursts,
The cards aren't revealed, it's better not to know the truth,
To solve the problems, find options,
Without buying and selling, and wasting time.

Empty pockets, the payments are overdue,
Drunk, legs like cotton, I'm going back,
I definitely need to get home,
Tears in my eyes, Mom, it's all the same.

For you, I'm so full of myself, well, yes,
They often said it was the fault of the slut,
It's so scary to sink to the bottom,
It seems like everything started recently.

I thought I was getting out of it, but it turned out not to be true,
Like the third joint before the chorus,
Everyone has serious business,
No time for help, the battery is dead,

Or what is he saying there, when he's freezing,
Crossing paths with someone, things are causing a stir,
Constant calls, like "help me,"
I don't understand what kind of stigma is on my leg.

And why did they think that the paths are evil?
Just look at what tough guys they are,
Life is a mess, everything is simple and clear,
In the evening you explain incoherently to Mom,

Where did you get so much in your pocket?
It should have been sold off a long time ago,
My beloved is upset that Dima is watching,
Imagine the picture, my head is full of smoke.

We were on the balcony, blowing things up together,
We parted ways, our paths diverged,
Another summer, no sea,
Guys, drown your sorrows in alcohol.

I lost my brothers, there are ragged wounds on my body,
Don't remind me. In the past, we were equals,
Peace to the guys, but the cops are searching,
How to find peace? Don't go to the gallows.

Without seeing the other side, you'll continue to judge,
It's easy to get around on new wheels,
But without a fight, you won't get things done,
Hey man, I'm leaving, stop right here.

I don't show my eyes, I don't show my pupils,
But Mom, forgive all the hiding places,
I'm telling the truth, for everyone, we're not junkies,
We didn't bring anything out of the house while high.

There are many types, but he's one of the red ones,
One will search and let you go home,
Another will harass you and show off,
But I need the third one, personal scores to settle.

For you, I'm so full of myself, well, yeah,
You have folders there, I have a joint of weed,
Maybe we'll meet in the courtyards,
We'll talk heart to heart, call me, brother.