RAM, МАКСИ ГРИН - Hot sauce
текст песни

Dirty sauce is on the menu
The dirty dog ​​waits for the clutch moment
Just to put some pressure on your soft ass
In the end
I’m firing blind, like I can’t see
I’m firing with full recoil
Smashing jaws just for the hell of it
If you’re one of us, complete the mission
Step into the circle and get smashed by Gancho
Eat this dirty sauce while it’s hot
I’m boiling mouthguards before the bloody match
Let your girlfriend weep
When the dirty sauce starts flowing from your packs of cash
I’m hungry like Biggie Mo, bro
Gotta squeeze every drop of sauce out of this place
I’m hungry like Biggie Mo, bro
Gotta squeeze every drop of sauce out of this place
I’m hungry like Biggie Mo, bro
Gotta squeeze every drop of sauce out of this place
I’m hungry like Biggie Mo, bro
Gotta squeeze every drop of sauce out of this place
Our heads have long been covered in dust
Terrified people scream: "Die!"
But the moment I greedily bare my fangs
Dead lights flicker in their eyes
Boy, your gas tank is overheating from the daily grind
We’ve gathered a toxic crew all around you
That negative residue needs to be ground down by experience
It’s bound to pile up—I guarantee it—so step up and take your beating
Facial bones shattering—call me Lomonosov
The working class is the demolition tool for taking down the posers
And if I ever unwittingly turn into a copycat
Catch me in an alleyway and squeeze the sauce right out of me
Boiling mouthguards before the match
Ironing my Stone Island gear, ironing the patch
Just so I can stain it later with blood from your packs of cash
(We move for the culture, not just the cash)
Facing me stands a jacked-up brute
I’m a skinny runt, but I’m still ready to feed him a knuckle sandwich
I’m not a machine—I’ve got no reverse gear
It’s just little pissing boys filing the police reports
Our home is the Dirty South
And inside every single one of us, that sauce is boiling. I’m ready—no reason, no pause—
To pour it into any open maw
I slop it around haphazardly—like a lunch lady dolloping mayo
onto cafeteria trays
I squirt it right in the face of rude bastards (and I don't give a fuck)—
even if you’re Sylvester Stallone
You can't buy this sauce for bucks; it’s rare as hell—like that Szechuan sauce
If it were for sale, Mexicans and Albanians would go to war over it
I’m coated in rat poison—you’ll cut your tongue on my shell
My social media posts aren't pride parades—
but they’re full of pissed-off faggots
You guys are boys from Sesame Street—we’re the kids from the bottom, the bottom
Somewhere between a shed and a Four Seasons hotel
This ain't the Cali Cartel, but Ramirez is close by
This business is dirty. It’s a rich, thick sauce—we pour it into the fajitas
It oozes out of me like a ghost—
like the drummer’s head in that Gorillaz video
I’m hungry like Biggie Mo, bro
Gotta squeeze out every drop of this sauce right here
I’m hungry like Biggie Mo, bro
Gotta squeeze out every drop of this sauce right here
I’m hungry like Biggie Mo, bro
Gotta squeeze out every drop of this sauce right here
I’m hungry like Biggie Mo, bro
Gotta squeeze out every drop of this sauce right here
Pour it, pour it—don't hold back—pour that dirty sauce on the people
Pour it, pour it—don't hold back—pour that dirty sauce on the people
Pour it, pour it—don't hold back—pour that dirty sauce on the people
Pour it, pour it—don't hold back—pour that dirty sauce on the people