ZippO - Рыжуха
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ZippO - Рыжуха - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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Слышал было грустно, пол 12, я один.
Повелся, порвана чека, в 16 лет, но нафига?
Кто был по дворам, спасибо, помню три кита.
Кто не уставшее лицо, привет передавал.
Кто падал, на стрёмные хаты.
И каждому рогатому в рубахе - аккуратней.
И нету тут моей ноги, в глаза смотри.
Вырос во дворе один и остался таким.
И видел ты вирех родных от суеты.
Ты посмотри опору, только с потихой не спи.
Увидишь рыжуху, бери, беги.
Даже не плыви, где мы не были.
Белый дым остался молодым, остался молодым.
Припев:2х
Наше фонгви, отдыхаем весь день.
Мне нужен перстень, золотой ливень, блин.
Дальше будет легче, откалибруем печень, заодно.
Мои холсты с рисунками уже не для глаз ваших.
Замажу все, что написал и превращу их в сажу.
И тот свой храм, что строил я на своем опыте.
Я все сожгу узорами на потолке из копоти.
Потом по хлопати заляпать лист ботинком.
Чтобы впредь им донести.
Насколько быстро меняются люди.
Когда лежишь лицом в грязи, а в периметре тихо.
Ты о помощи кричи хоть голос от психа.
Все будет глухо.
И неминуемая такая учесть, че за муха укусила меня?
Так что аж больно присесть.
Такая замануха, вокруг порч кучи, не пруха.
Но ведь пищу нужно нюхать перед тем, как съесть.
Это все бытовуха доводит до греха.
Мокрухой на стене пишу слова, чтобы потом прочесть.
И жизнь показуха, запахом пороха.
И духа не хватает, чтобы принимать всё так как есть.
Имею честь, умею взвесить, что надо.
Но в душу лезть как-то нагло, придется терпеть.
Вы не поймете ведь, вам лижь бы грызть.
В голове все вот-вот брызнет, мало верится, так мало верь.
А если в теле черви портят нервы.
И крик души, не первый ты собрался, не получится и Бродвей.
И может я псих, что написал такого рода стих.
Но если б я притих, то получил бы мозги.
Припев:2х.
I heard it sad, Paul 12, I am alone.
Closed, torn a check, at 16, but what for?
Who was in the yards, thanks, I remember three whales.
Who is not a tired face, conveyed hello.
Who fell, on the strip huts.
And each horned in a shirt is more accurate.
And there is no foot here, look into my eyes.
He grew up in the courtyard and remained like that.
And you saw the score of relatives from the hustle and bustle.
You look at the support, only do not sleep.
You will see a redhead, take it, run.
Do not even swim where we were not.
White smoke remained young, remained young.
Chorus: 2x
Our fans, we are resting all day.
I need a ring, golden rain, damn it.
Then it will be easier, calibrate the liver, at the same time.
My canvases with drawings are no longer for your eyes.
I will smear everything that I wrote and turn them into soot.
And that my temple that I built on my own.
I will burn everything with patterns on the ceiling from soot.
Then clap a sheet with a boot.
To convey them from now on.
How quickly people are changing.
When you lie in the mud, and in the perimeter quietly.
You scream for help at least a voice from a psycho.
Everything will be deaf.
And to take into account such an inevitable, why did the fly bit me?
So it hurts to sit down.
Such a lure, around the spoilage of heaps, is not a span.
But you need to sniff food before eating.
This is all Bytovukha to sin.
I write words on the wall with a mokrush on the wall in order to read later.
And the life of the window dressing, the smell of gunpowder.
And the spirit is not enough to accept everything as it is.
I have an honor, I can weigh what I need.
But somehow brazenly climb into the soul, you have to endure.
You won’t understand, you would lick you to bite.
Everything is about to sprinkle in my head, little believe, believe so little.
And if the worms spoil the nerves in the body.
And the scream of the soul, not the first you are gathered, it will not work Broadway.
And maybe I'm crazy that I wrote such a verse.
But if I had got silent, I would get brains.
Chorus: 2x.
Closed, torn a check, at 16, but what for?
Who was in the yards, thanks, I remember three whales.
Who is not a tired face, conveyed hello.
Who fell, on the strip huts.
And each horned in a shirt is more accurate.
And there is no foot here, look into my eyes.
He grew up in the courtyard and remained like that.
And you saw the score of relatives from the hustle and bustle.
You look at the support, only do not sleep.
You will see a redhead, take it, run.
Do not even swim where we were not.
White smoke remained young, remained young.
Chorus: 2x
Our fans, we are resting all day.
I need a ring, golden rain, damn it.
Then it will be easier, calibrate the liver, at the same time.
My canvases with drawings are no longer for your eyes.
I will smear everything that I wrote and turn them into soot.
And that my temple that I built on my own.
I will burn everything with patterns on the ceiling from soot.
Then clap a sheet with a boot.
To convey them from now on.
How quickly people are changing.
When you lie in the mud, and in the perimeter quietly.
You scream for help at least a voice from a psycho.
Everything will be deaf.
And to take into account such an inevitable, why did the fly bit me?
So it hurts to sit down.
Such a lure, around the spoilage of heaps, is not a span.
But you need to sniff food before eating.
This is all Bytovukha to sin.
I write words on the wall with a mokrush on the wall in order to read later.
And the life of the window dressing, the smell of gunpowder.
And the spirit is not enough to accept everything as it is.
I have an honor, I can weigh what I need.
But somehow brazenly climb into the soul, you have to endure.
You won’t understand, you would lick you to bite.
Everything is about to sprinkle in my head, little believe, believe so little.
And if the worms spoil the nerves in the body.
And the scream of the soul, not the first you are gathered, it will not work Broadway.
And maybe I'm crazy that I wrote such a verse.
But if I had got silent, I would get brains.
Chorus: 2x.
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