tomaonet - Во Имя Добра - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

The lines come and hit my brain harder than an electric current, I throw them out.

The junk from my head—I cleanse the chambers of my mind.

I've been beyond the line more than once, standing at the very edge.

Finding within myself the axe of war, like the fruit of introspection.

Sparks in my eyes grow into clouds of flame.

I take a step to finally feel the heavens beneath my feet.

Here, everyone is talking about how to live, even though no one really knows how.

While you're noisily chasing the truth, I silently hacked away at a shard of it.

Reality distorts my little world, to say the least,

But I break it, as if a bone were being crushed with a crowbar.

Like a handful of pills in my throat, a hammer in my nose.

Or the remnants of hope, the last nail driven into the coffin lid.

I don't care what air I breathe.

In a city where children are worse than adults, the fires are burning.

It just so happened, the fast pace changed. Out of breath

I'll leave right now, just give me access to the roof.

I heard only voices and followed their call,

Staggering off my feet and crying, dripping snot onto the floor.

The mouths of dogs are open everywhere, even though my piece isn't exactly a savory one.

Each of them, if they got inside me, would have fucking died there.

They can't take my word away,

If my hip-hop is evil, then it's in the name of good.

My word can't be taken away, evil in the name of good.

My head is torn off, just like this rap was torn off.

My word can't be taken away,

If my hip-hop is evil, then it's in the name of good.

My word can't be taken away, evil in the name of good.

My throat is torn off, just like this rap was torn off.

Lightning flashes cut the sky.

Know, it's the Almighty, bro, and remember that you anger Him.

The arrogance that a goblin splashes is unnecessary, but he's just pressing buttons.

If his stuff is even precious, it's of the lowest quality.

They troll so viciously, there's so much blood in the lyrics,

They're ready to swear by it, their rap is one hundred percent poison.

But that's beside the point here, a zero of delight. What's the point of poison bullets if the chamber is empty? Rap flows through the veins of culture. I am like a blood clot in them.

My ship's anchor is stuck in the bottom.

It will swallow us with its enormous mouth, a huge gag is needed,

So as not to perish, wearing the tattered rags of dirty robes.

My head swells from daily thoughts, but

Fate will eventually turn this tumor into cancer.

Whoever brainwashed us so badly will die on the chopping block.

A touch of kindness must be added, replacing this air with drape smoke.

Sometimes it's hard to keep up with your thoughts, sometimes it's hard to distinguish between rats and nymphs.

The world spins fast, and the only way to stop it is to shoot.

Sorry.