SORT AVTO feat. PI13 - Полигоны - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Sort

two hundred three hundred

Only a bullet knows what you are made of

Military psychologists will build polygons (frequencies)

But even God won't say how many were killed but

Three hundred two hundred

Only a bullet knows what I am made of

Drone optics will be adjusted, you don't even know who we are

But we are in the form of a sullen attack again

PI13

Open you are. you are in the same country

where there are billions of tons of gas, diamonds and oil

And all this should seem to go to you but you know the owner is here

Uver vozye, xo, kurvazye, everything is taken care of above, here everything is not yours, the Russian Orthodox Church prays for help from above, brother, do you hear this fuck

The octopus pulls its tentacles straight from the screen grabbing the soul and the heart so wounding that you wanted in this program, in our outskirts to fix something, we have been dengers since childhood, brothers from the neighborhood bangers

two hundred three hundred

Only a bullet knows what you are made of

Military psychologists will build polygons (frequencies)

But even God will not say how many fell but

three hundred two hundred

Only a bullet knows what I am made of

Drone optics will be adjusted, you don't even know who we are

But we are sullen in form straight into the attack on a new

SORT

Who is this rapper in essence? the only one who is terribly disgusting

Who will not give you simple shit. Most likely the opposite

It's not easy to listen to me. And the reason for that is the complicated code

For some it's a tortured screw, a bandage. For others it's a message and a punched flow

And no one cares about my hip-hop, but I love it so much

You don't care about factories or the work of ants

The boys and I will start Rognarok again from the speakers

While all the rappers are essentially just dancing in a circle

Hydras are pulling their heads down, These days it's like weights

We're watching Russia as if on live TV:

Horizontal bars - forgot the fuck. Junkies - are sawing a shelf.

I would place a bet, and would put only C4

Sort thundered, no conscience. In the crypts of the porches - carcasses of chimeras

From dose to dose the path from forever. Your reflection will flash on the front

At this moment, understand, not your day. They, believe me, without pity. After all

The time has come to stir up the snow. It will soon get dark, but there is no speed

two-hundredths three-hundredths

Only a bullet knows what you are woven from