Леша Хэш, David 159 - Тени - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

(Listen, let's, like, let's charge some money together, and maybe even meet up with you, because, like, how true is it, everything's like you say, like, we charge some money and that's it, we're not even going anywhere, like, you know, I'd meet up, like, charge some money together, like, here)

Shadows of the neighborhood, where the old school is, there were three guys bustling around the house.

I've seen enough and understood a lot, dirt behind my back, "Coca-Cola" in my hands.

The weight was buried, the car was dead, "toner," and we're trying again, we poured a lot.

I drove off near the house, because everything isn't so smooth, and you know everything, I'm perfectly fine.

Western District, somewhere beyond the "MKAD," they always smoked, there was always little.

Even the scheme can fail, the theme is a sure thing, but the scheme isn't "Stechkin."

Money loves us, stupidity will destroy us.

Shadows of the neighborhood, courtyards, and brothels.

The wrong tone for communicating on You, but you don't know us, and we're not "kids."

Unsweetened mint, blood stains

The girl is quite young, with a soft character

Panic, herd instinct, the only way, no turning back

Where they made the scapegoat, the soul inside out

It won't work out like before, I heard about Cain

These "under" from the outskirts, we're going to take off, what are you talking about?

We took it on the fifth floor and got caught there

Whose voices, or did I imagine them or was they shown to me?

The sky will be covered in white city smoke

Where the sun fell, I didn't make a stash

You move, gloomy, you move. "Meth" used to move, but now it's long gone

You're left alone like a mongrel, but you moved with your loved ones, you were up to something

You don't twist your arms, you're not wearing bracelets, you listen to rap, but not on cassettes anymore.

The clock is ticking, and we're in the underpass.

We're dealing drugs, and the local cop doesn't seem to mind.

Looking for a little one for some light erotica.

I'm going to bed at sunrise, and you're there on duty.

A neighborhood king, like a street person.

It's true that this is a special case.

We were cooking up the foundation for the rush.

We were being tougher, and which of us is the martyr.

Which of us is the martyr.

You can keep pouring.

Turn up the heat, you'll see the other world.

Boys in their prime, in the glow of flashing lights.

Throwed into the snow, and now they're high.

The action beckons, calls for help.

The "conspiracy" beckons, you put it there.

That bitch beckons, naked somewhere.

The currency beckons, where a hundred and nine is.

It will cover you completely, if you don't have money, just don't whine.

Concrete slabs, walls have seen murders.

How Hundreds of entrances crumbled to dust

We painted the sky with a black palette

A road that leads to where the living have never been

Time sang to me that there is no time

To search for myself somewhere between heated spoons

We heard that soon all the bitches will be called to account

Your hands are clogged, you're supposedly bandits

But you're not under cover, you're just covered

You're blocked off, and your veins are punctured

You're supposedly elite, but you're killed again

That chick gave you a hard time, she's a real bitch

You're supposedly handsome, but you're a fuckup

You take daddy's money as much as you want

But you don't know us, but you know our style

It's the wrong tone to address us informally

But you don't know us, and we're not buddies