PraKillaGramm - Осенний
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Че-то как-то мне грустно в последнее время.
Уже не так жду выходных и мультиков по теле.
Да и все праздники уже как-то приелись,
Одно и то же: будь то Новый год или день рождения.
Я стал замечать, будто что-то не так.
Не витаю в облаках, все хуже на отходах.
Знаю, как бывает плохо и как людям похуй.
Я улыбаюсь, под лето приемы тантухи.
Вижу, как стареет мама, говорю, что рано.
Душевные раны не меньше с годами.
Смотрю на мир убитым: он такой же серый,
Как дождливый сентябрь, наверно.
От концерта до концерта считаю копейки,
В магазине в долг: я ж человек конкретный.
Отдам, когда будут, когда будут не знаю.
Вы там, если че, без обид, заранее.
Бабки на подъезде на меня косо смотрят:
Бол женат уже и все не работает.
Я музыкант, вам этого не понять точно,
Смотрите за собой, я сам о себе позабочусь.
Я не верю людям, так было и будет.
тебя рады видеть пару человек по сути.
Будни как один, дома прижал пятку,
Бит погромче и только это радует.
Трубку на зарядку, далее - на вибро,
Вдруг кто-то начнет будить с утра или ночью.
Не люблю точки - давайте лучше шишек.
Когда я пустой, я пиздец обесточен.
Малые с района сказали: мои треки - хуйня.
Че теперь делать не знаю, как жить далее.
Вижу людей насквозь, будто аквариум.
Ты живешь честно, расскажи это маме.
Звонит сосед опять, и я знаю зачем.
Пятка - не пятка, я не пойму, ночь или день сейчас.
Смотрю в окно: на асфальте лужи,
Утро хуёвое? Да, бывало и получше.
Встал к ужину, уснул к завтраку.
Как так? Хуй его знает, надо навести порядок в голове.
Все этот рэп, - сказала б бабуля.
Но теперь некому, и я молча втыкаю на стуле.
Так же дома студия, пока вроде хватает.
Пойду ложиться спать, а то уже светает.
В этом альбоме - весь я за последнее время,
Также для своих от души всем, кто ценит.
I’m somehow sad for me lately.
I'm not waiting for the weekend and cartoons in the body.
Yes, and all the holidays have already bored,
One and the same: be it New Year or birthday.
I began to notice that something was wrong.
I do not hang in the clouds, everything is worse on waste.
I know how bad it is and how to fuck people.
I smile, in the summer of Tantuhi.
I see how my mother ages, I say that early.
Soul wounds no less over the years.
I look at the world killed: he is the same gray,
Like a rainy September, probably.
From the concert to the concert I consider a penny,
In the store in debt: I am a specific person.
I will give it when they will be when they don’t know.
You are there, if what, no offense, in advance.
Grandmas at the entrance look at me askance:
Bol is already married and everything does not work.
I am a musician, you don't understand this for sure
Look for myself, I will take care of myself.
I do not believe people, it was and will be.
You are glad to see a couple of people in essence.
Weekdays as one, at home pressed the heel,
Bit is louder and only it pleases.
The tube for charging, then - on the vibro,
Suddenly someone will begin to wake up in the morning or night.
I do not like points - let's better cones.
When I am empty, I fucked up.
Smalls from the area said: my tracks are dick.
Che now I don’t know how to live on.
I see people through, like an aquarium.
You live honestly, tell your mother.
The neighbor calls again, and I know why.
The heel is not a heel, I don’t understand, night or day now.
I look out the window: on the asphalt of the puddle,
Dick morning? Yes, it happened better.
I got up to dinner, fell asleep to breakfast.
How so? The dick knows him, we must put things in order in his head.
All this rap, ”the granny said.
But now there is no one, and I silently stick in a chair.
The studio is also at home, while it seems to be enough.
I’ll go to go to bed, otherwise it is already lighting.
In this album - all I am recently,
Also, for their hearts, to everyone who appreciates.
I'm not waiting for the weekend and cartoons in the body.
Yes, and all the holidays have already bored,
One and the same: be it New Year or birthday.
I began to notice that something was wrong.
I do not hang in the clouds, everything is worse on waste.
I know how bad it is and how to fuck people.
I smile, in the summer of Tantuhi.
I see how my mother ages, I say that early.
Soul wounds no less over the years.
I look at the world killed: he is the same gray,
Like a rainy September, probably.
From the concert to the concert I consider a penny,
In the store in debt: I am a specific person.
I will give it when they will be when they don’t know.
You are there, if what, no offense, in advance.
Grandmas at the entrance look at me askance:
Bol is already married and everything does not work.
I am a musician, you don't understand this for sure
Look for myself, I will take care of myself.
I do not believe people, it was and will be.
You are glad to see a couple of people in essence.
Weekdays as one, at home pressed the heel,
Bit is louder and only it pleases.
The tube for charging, then - on the vibro,
Suddenly someone will begin to wake up in the morning or night.
I do not like points - let's better cones.
When I am empty, I fucked up.
Smalls from the area said: my tracks are dick.
Che now I don’t know how to live on.
I see people through, like an aquarium.
You live honestly, tell your mother.
The neighbor calls again, and I know why.
The heel is not a heel, I don’t understand, night or day now.
I look out the window: on the asphalt of the puddle,
Dick morning? Yes, it happened better.
I got up to dinner, fell asleep to breakfast.
How so? The dick knows him, we must put things in order in his head.
All this rap, ”the granny said.
But now there is no one, and I silently stick in a chair.
The studio is also at home, while it seems to be enough.
I’ll go to go to bed, otherwise it is already lighting.
In this album - all I am recently,
Also, for their hearts, to everyone who appreciates.