Текст песни Текстовик на баттле - мой район

Good morning with my text flew down from the roof,
My yard will meet them drunk with a bottle and polyethylene.
In the courtyard of the photographer, the rapper and two guitarists.
But the latter is given only to create somewhere under the influence of amphetamine.

My city dries, dies, and always at the passers vomits.
Perhaps that is why there are many similar permanently y * b.
No. In it there is no center, and recording studios.
But what there is, even if the products hardly get.

All feature up to become fashionable, without a soul, without bias,
But essentially all dolbaёby in the last step.
Heifers in the pants deskvored, holding coffee and Paulo Coelho,
Just pulled up the sea with his f ** nym knee.

This is not the voice of a generation, it is a signal sos - Help!
Distribute all here for mobile..oy simple - over the grave.
Rename the vocational school at Moscow State University, we can form suddenly.
Get on the right path, or at least at a crossroads.