ДОДЭКА, SLUSHAY SUDA, ANTON UNDER - Рубеж
текст песни

I thought long, hard, and deep
Searching for an escape route
Blending into the background
Of the city’s noise
I didn’t even notice
The cigarette butt burning down in my hands
Yesterday, today, tomorrow—
It’s all a caricature
We spin in circles—listen, Zhenya—we’re rolling downhill
Laying out the reality of things—right here, onto a blank page
By all the laws of gravity, by destiny’s design
I’ll recite it all exactly as it is—no requests, no encores
My yearning for art nurtured the poet within me
But my craving for all these experiments—fuck!—
Took away far more than just that
I’m a captive in this ghetto; so many accomplices come to mind
Now they’re simply gone; the forbidden fruit was sweet
I was a fool; I was weak
I didn’t want to follow the herd; I thought this was the way it had to be
Things are different now, truly; starting from scratch doesn’t faze me
Let my brother be by my side; let my mother be happy
I’ll bind up my wounds—yeah, my path is thorny
I’ll recharge my mana here—and to the cops: fuck the police
Giving up the drugs? No doubt about it—it’s a must
I’m sick to death of the constant traps, and my soul is left with a bitter residue
There are no paths left for retreat
The underground—just like the metro
You’re down there, out of reach
Struck by the blow, we clutched our heads in pain
We fled to the woods on the other side
Not in search of icons
Across the road, we’d be tossing over bottles of cologne
A tiny world—and the voice inside me wasn’t indifferent
Though *I* didn’t give a damn
Ashes and arguments, the hooting of owls
The speedometer needle—like the scales of justice
On a journey amidst the dogs
The interrogators
The basement, six-man bunks
We fell from a great height—fast
Like a mother’s tears
These friends—among whom lurk traitors
Ready to sell you out for a single fix
The result: so many pits and hollows
I scream: "Enough!"
I haven’t slept in three days
Not... I remember waking up in the hospital ward.
It’s not a foreign track, but I’m reaching for the global stage.
I told you exactly how it is—just to leave you stunned.
It feels good, it feels normal to be able to fall asleep.
To hell with the powder; I’ve got a healthy appetite now—to hell with the parachute.
My heart whispers to me; I sit down and record—it’s balm for the soul.
It’s easy to breathe; my bones don’t ache anymore.
My temples don’t throb with rage anymore.
I’ve got a lot of friends now, and everyone invites me over.
If you’ve got something real to say—you’re more than welcome.
I’m not afraid to look anyone straight in the eye.
And to the police: don’t mess with me—I’m telling you exactly how it is.
It’s all down in black and white: I earned this all myself.
I keep moving forward with faith; it feels good when my dad smiles at me.
He’s smoking his hookah, blowing clouds into the air.
It finally sank in—I finally understood what it means to say: "Enough."
Life is guiding me toward healthy, sensible places now.
From here on out, I can do whatever I want with my life.
Just one sober day—that’s already a personal record.
That "wasted-to-shit" rap—it’s not cool anymore.
Now that I’ve crossed that threshold, I’m clean and free.
Clean and free—cheerful and full of life.
That "wasted-to-shit" rap—it’s not cool anymore.
Clean and free, clean and free.
My dad is proud—I’m clean and free.