If you run away, you’ll want to eat.
When you come back, I know where to look for you,
You’ll hide in
the yards opposite, You thoroughbred one, dragging your fate,
So, you’re not a mongrel, you should know
You went to the hunters, for nothing,
You don’t like cats to cheat.
City streets, schools, and burrs
City streets, schools, and burrs
Cars, soccer fields, like aliens,
We go to warehouses, gyms, and clubs,
We are like a detached generation, would,
But let’s just say we wanted to be like,
Our grandfathers and fathers, passed all the stages, a sign,
Courage, and were tomboys in the streets,
Grew up not in Moscow, but also here there are, patsy on behah,
What set the tone for the rest of bosota, nah,
You can’t bury these years, crooked and in bots,
Not from Guchi, we were hanging around, but in ordinary gray cross-country shoes,
Knead the lowdown with bolted feet,
If you ask if you have any regrets about the past years,
I will answer that no, it would be worse for us in the dungeons,
And if you must live, you must have pepper in your veins,
And to die, so without bitterness, on hard knees.
There Is A God
God is, he is not in Buddhism simply,
Buddhism is, he is not in God simply,
We are not the first Civilization in Kosma,
Samsara and Nirvana were always on Edge.
The Planet circles around the Sun,
A Disk of Gold glorifies Names,
We live, suffer, die and go to Heaven,
We are children of the Planets, dying in Nirvana.
There will be Heaven and Hell, everything is measured by life,
There is retribution, for sins according to Genesis,
But everything is temporary, we are in God, in the Son, in the Spirit,
Entire Nations, Mountains, And Everything Are Suffering.
Sanya is the same old one
Sanya is the same old,
He breathes White Sea,
There would be money for Prestige,
But he’s a loyal dog to the country.
When we were in the lava,
We were together, here’s the crash,
Since then, our Metropolitan,
Everyone pays the least.
The task is given by fate,
To raise the country,
Why does it bloom then,
Europe is full of flowers.
Sanya is loved by the country,
I don’t have a penny in my pocket,
Cars rustling loudly,
Satan himself leads.
North
North is not south, it is cold,