хоп-механика (hop mechanics) oxxxymiron lyrics english

грязь (dirt) oxxxymiron lyrics english

– Listen, friend, could you finally release something good and come to us already in Ufa, finally? We were fucking waiting for you, really. Hurry, please! Hurry up a little! You are responsible for those you have tamed, right ? Here, don’t give up. I embraced

[Verse 1]
Rap is back to the level of “padik demo” two thousandth
‘s the price when long trailed
Rags with Dazed and iD will not replace the verse as tchotchke TsUM’a of
the “Disable avtotyun text show »

So I thought , when
you see the game, on such a long segment
Groundhog Day, fraternization, beefs, synergies A
constant appears

Not with Mitya Slovetsky , now Nurminsky
Earlier, Seryozha Local – everything will repeat itself disappearing
Then there was still another country

20 r. for a buck, a barrel
For a hundred, no amendments
The struggle for power in rap, so that the genre

changes its format But now it’s like freestyle, when the fire is Waves of hysteria, the battle of the industry, income, streams
Was before and will be after the bubble burst
Tracks in one -two phrases maximize profits
But I don’t need a fan base with goldfish attention

[Verse 2]
Hey! Your IQ, judging by the view – kinda cute
It would be better to be silent – I love riddles.
Watching with your boo at “Sunset” Kuindzhi

She is soulful, but flat
She is called the Ouiji board
All club culture? Well, it

used to be Mutabor in a Bachelor Party, now a bachelor party in Mutabor
I was asked: “Why is there no gangsta in Russian rap?”
But gangsta in Russia – the prerogative of the State

Major amused bids
from Leman bucks for an album, but I’m not so impoverished
yet so dulled to take advances
Labels – are banks

you, again, trying to fuck the Jew?
Naive amateurs
I put strokes on sheets
My style is when you have playlists to pussy

You can’t buy a taste on cash, my son
“Is this a Swiss watch? You’re a star! “
I only have Swiss accounts

Magazines scam hypebeasts
MC look like rich Chinese tourists
Gucci fashion is old like Methuselah
But everything is in red and green, like I’m Spyder Jerusalem

Rows of a monumental skyscraper on Barrikadnaya
They say: “Battles are dead”, well, yes, until I am a battle
Relaxed mourning, the era is reset to zero praying
Pure profit – I am healing mud

I transfer my powers

[Verse 3]
I felled verses in the mud I
hung hooks on them afterwards
I dug into
my chest with a knife to the depths Where my evil double sharpened the skill out of
boredom This bit fucked up, so I killed him

I smacked my psychedelic flow straight in the forehead
To be honest, everyone doesn’t give a fuck how much your gear is worth
You we’d better reveal what you hid inside
But honestly I don’t give a fuck what you hid inside

[Verse 4]
The sun is stroking new buildings, somewhere in the East
You are standing in your beloved country: either in a pose, or in a rack
“And you are a rap legend, because your track has gone viral on TikTok!”

In Inst’ike signature: “Art is a” not for, and not against
Find Me in the stack of media noise
faster than you prosharite my style, to me will reach Grishin shooter

Yeah, there’s a dirty rifmoletopis
I represent the native land
Vyatka Lyrical Terrorist

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