Карандаш - Лети на йух - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

You're tired of hearing songs about the same thing, about these streets and how death is possible there.

About tram tracks, courtyards, and mud, and, for some reason, about love, too, you're tired of it.

Your ears are tired of hearing constant stories about how Russian rap is ridiculous, and who the fuck is a star in it. About Miami beaches, the multitude of available chicks, sometimes too stupid, sometimes too smart for you.

And... your ears still can't find a home, because... every new disc says "NEW."

But... pressing "Play," you're disappointed again, unable to find peace on countless albums.

You're tired of these rhymes for the hundredth time, about schoolkids, hustle, haters, disses, and beefs.

But this song will now become your favorite, because in it, people like you are sent to...

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY... Fly to hell, here's a magic kick for you, to make your journey more enjoyable.

Play this song, because it's loved and awaited, and we'll figure it out without you.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY... Fly to hell, here's a magic kick for you, to make your journey more enjoyable.

Play this song, because it's loved and awaited, and we'll figure it out without you.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY... Fly to hell, here's a magic kick for you, to make your journey more enjoyable.

Play this song, because it's loved and awaited, and we'll figure it out without you. Your rap has already dulled your wits, all this diarrhea of ​​the poet's inner worlds.

Plus, some idiot swears, you'd think, well, why do you need all this? After all, there's no other way to put it: everything that's bad for you is... for me.

Hey, if you noticed a swear word here, go hang yourself, or grab a tape recorder cable.

I also don't like it when my songs rub shoulders with such delicate souls.

Forget it, and I'll chalk up your corpse, bury you, and finally, calmly curse.

And your complaints are perfectly reasonable—I've heard similar practices in prison.

But we're free, and I'm singing at the top of my voice, a chorus for people like you, sending you to...

Y ... YY ...