Not to piss up a rope is ABC. Bite your tongue!
Suppressing the urge of chatting to strangers.
I wouldn't pour heart out to a random guy, Like an atheist to a pope.
These are slums - 3 stripes, shapes of pumas on tights (conventional low-life/knacker clothing).
Gonna get eaten, like Entrecôte, They, just for fun, fool (trick) a miserable shorty who is rich – leprechaun.
Ok, I have a way with words, can do rap easily.
Here your whole freestyle will be smashed by a single phrase.
Echoes from halls of "sleeper" neighborhood, built when Stalin was around,
of hysterias, snappings, and secretive mysteries.
Middle-Asian shivs, Chinese shoes, silver (grey) snows, Russian tears, May holidays.
Come on, my soul, sing wide-open.
There is Russia outside the window, more like Rashka (the diminishing name for Russia)
White fog, drunken mugs, red tip of a policeman's cap.
Shivering because of the news again.
I have no head for criminality, whatever the ways they, the sons of the great country, grown to be bastards, incite with.
That's the way it is. We can't live a day without blame.
A day without arguing with boozers/drunkies or junkies.
The luxury of drinking or smoking to death is unaffordable.
Long benders are only for slow amoebas.
I don't see a point in freezing at senseless protests while being filmed by people in jackets (military ones), for their movies.
The atmosphere is not for everyone, and it will get worse.
Where should I go when everyone considers himself a leader?
I stay alone, and for any 7 troubles there is only one answer (idiom, means to take all the responsibility taking into account your previous mistakes)
- We should stock up on weapons.
And that's the way things stand, no BS
Here my dream has got too many enemies
And I desire this dragon defeated.
But my dream has got too many enemies
Reality gets meaner each day - no mistake
Listen, my dream has got too many enemies
and my anger, like a river, will burst its banks.
Because my dream has got too many enemies
You know, it is easier not to dream, while remaining inert
Get lost in myriad hordes of ordinary mortals
Thus Oprichnik (royal, trusted bodyguard of Russian czar) will not add you to his list
and infarction around 40 will be considered as an easy end
Where there are 2 worlds separated by MKAD (Moscow ring road) (a reference to Moscow being excessively developed in relation to other regions of RF)
Your dreams, most likely, will go up for an auction
The protest will overflow streets worse than a flood
But your freedom here equals to the length of a leash
I cannot catch up, like a pedestrian with a horseman, with the one who chose a successful path, but not legal
Masters stamp their foot in army boots on us as if we are worse than insects.
And we'll get divided into flogged and flogging
where there is a mistake after mistake, symptoms are seen clearly
And each day is as another episode of a crazy sitcom
I'd forcefully make myself collapse powerlessly in a coma
Not to see that has been the lump in my throat for so long.