Obe 1 Kanobe - Грязный флоу - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

We'll leave you a blue eye, you're lying while you don't see us

But quiet now, MC go to sleep, it's quiet time now

And suddenly you decide to read us every extra time

You'll only hear, come on Obi, show them class

He kills the beat, canobi is a real guy

And if in a call, I took your instrumental, you're really in trouble

After all, whatever I write here, it's a real hit

Mix shit talent and get it, everything is brilliant shield

Canobi three ex, cash rap, drugs sex

You didn't know that we spin more shit here than next

Every time we read it's more than text

And when we perform, it's just complete fucked up

We smoke to the sounds

Baba shakes me so that I pass it on, because there's also a bazooka with Louis

Bro will smoke

Bro is in no hurry, he meticulously looking for a minus in spirit, fuck

Or maybe it should be so

And the beard will pump you up with sound from Petrozavodsk to Magadan

We'll spin big again

And we'll beat you up so badly and the colander so that you'll think hard

I know for sure that

The threat is hidden in the suitcase between them a tsunami and not rain passed

It definitely went

We laid out on Vadim the minus text that I just did

Barely managed to pull it out fresh

We'll cut it now, but it's better to pull out the cache

Weekly deadlines

I finish writing sensible deadlines and run away

All day long we're on the block style grab ki do

We've been breaking this system for years from start to finish

Kutuz clan and suitcase is a dirty flow

This is a dirty flow

Check out my world among plastic holes

Among currency zamutov I exhale smoke

Upside down the world people are broke

This is far from a shooting gallery scribbled and dumped

Trading in cash by bank transfer smell the snow but melted

Find an analogue and fuck up life not fatally

Let go of my people in the requested sports

A bunch of ideas are shackled fierce crowd

Strange film and poisoned smoke yes

Who shit in the ears, tell them that they are fucked

Smoke my star, the power is hidden in the bushes

Joints stick out in the mouth until you get tired

Take your places smoke in my texts

Rustling with leaves appreciate the style of the pack

It happens

Someone plays the spoons, someone warms up

On Taganka we will make someone feel offended

You will come to us in a tank, you will leave in an invalid

My lines of dragonflies will be visible

Another dose radioactive threat

The criminal investigation department is looking in both directions, but it's not for us to measure the red stripes of the faggots of the race

Time after time we blow and melt the mind

You shit yourself right away, this is the gas command

Fill my tank full

Here, a tramp, a joint in his hand, askew

After all, it's all a matter of taste

Here, PTZ Kutuzov, Peter the Great and Kutuzov

I'm not sad, I'm vile, but anyway

I'm not the father of hip choir, but at least a stepfather

All day long we're on the block, style, grab ki do

We've been breaking this system for years from start to finish

Kutuz's clan and suitcase is a dirty flow