Игла, Metox - Самоирония - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

and the rules are not written for a tyrant

if you forgot, I'll remind you

all these guys are covered in ink

from head to toe, this is a colony

whites want to push their og style

but everyone sees it's a parody

when I explain that I'm fucked up

no, this is not self-irony

when I blow up, I don't exhale

I care about the environment

when I blow up, I smoke

I leave it in the bottle, this is saving

so that later I can take another puff

let there be corrosion on my lungs

again, my hands crumbled in dermis

as if I was digging in manure, fuck

this is not self-irony

everything is serious here

chronicle of my days

this is not self-irony

we are champions, we are against drugs

this is not self-irony

think for yourself what's in your tummies

this is not self-irony

this is not self-irony

sort of

My bro was wanted for drugs, but we continued, because we were strictly fuck it

We think that they gave a lesson not a term, when the judge gave them a three

They beat my face, but I crossed these lines as if I had God's protection

Even in the pretrial detention center I had fun in a way that you can't even on New Year's Eve

The rules are not written for a tyrant - after all, we decided ourselves what is going on for us, and what - to the trash while still under the influence,

I hung out with the kitties - they look at my fit - this is how I can control their feelings by deception,

I rehearse a fraudulent bazaar (- this is the basis), right on them, so that later it will become an art for me,

We stirred up our movement in the zone with those there who had a term of more than twenty, you would have chickened out there,

and we laughed because we are also psychos like murderers, why are you so pale-faced, well, just like the Aryans,

and I realized you used what we cook with this streets

They're asking about you over there (come on)

Yes, we were there where you'd better not go

If the children are well-fed, then I'm bringing stuff to the fathers

I splattered my youth to send it to the colonies as warmth

This is not self-irony

I'll smile widely in the middle of Chthonic

But still, OG is everyone who is not me

I'm not the original gangsta

I'm just a bastard who fell for the fact that it's cool to walk around the neighborhood throwing weights

That's to be honest