Текст песни Veles Prise - Дедовский обрез

I go out , shoot tra- ta-ta
In my hands bleed , I seem rude
Grandpa did not notice that I stole it from home
It is a pity , always it keeps the blood spilled will be very much
I imagined himself as a military and climbed onto the roof
I move very quietly, so no one heard me