макулатура
Рэп translation of lyrics

Also known as Просто ждём, когда растает мираж и выползут чудовища сонного разума lyrics.

English translation of Рэп by макулатура
I trample in the wind, wrap myself in Newspapers, and stare at shop Windows
I hide cassettes with my naive verses in the holes of my coat
Passing cars, at other people's tables bustling Chaldeans
The city is shaking under the rap, as under shkonka Oleg Dobrodeev
But I'm nobody's man here, believe me, I was drawn by a five-year-old kid
On the drain pipe from boredom, three hours before lunch
I was recorded by a fool and twenty friends on My Space listened to me
Your rap-herring under a fur coat, my rap-vegan herring under a fur coat
No one needs it, like a single picket at the state Duma of a shaggy old man
Which is irradiated by NATO and he trudges back to his communal apartment
To the chalk "Mashenka", cigarettes "Java" and Slippers from Auchan
I didn't win again, but I played another meaningless round
I can't sit and live behind these Windows
I substitute my own ... under a Blizzard, I shy away from the lights of the city
Past kings and little jacks, flashing lights and cordons with turnstiles
An inconspicuous witness to the empty changes of your insipid burden
 
When the cold weather comes, we put on our quilted jackets and felt boots
Voiceless orators of recent times, a living monument of Stalin
We are not recognized by sight, we have stopped bringing the uprising closer
Just waiting for the Mirage to melt and the monsters of the sleepy mind to crawl out
 
When the cold weather comes, we put on our quilted jackets and felt boots
Voiceless orators of recent times, a living monument of Stalin
We are not recognized by sight, we have stopped bringing the uprising closer
Just waiting for the Mirage to melt and the monsters of the sleepy mind to crawl out
 
I serve the Museum of my idle imagination
I like that tourists don't come in, I don't dream about money and women
I tried to get out of work, I got a hole in my head, but I stuck it back on
My prospects in art, as in politics for Aman Tuleyev
The creative method has not changed since ninety-eight-I masturbate standing sideways
The diamond of my genius without a cut in the dust - I am not Brodsky or Nabokov
Your rap subscription to the pool and? on the crease of the blunt ...
My REP is a rusty dumbbell and a book tucked under a table leg
You'll learn all my verses, son, and soon you'll be off the radar, too
Between reviews on Last. You'll get lost about twelve years ago
The world of the dead, look, this is a new life, leave reality in the counter as change
There's a boring loop that awaits in the dresser Superman Miron Yanovich
It's better in our ward, we draw fates on the walls with shit
The winner was the one who dug in earlier, without waiting for the singing to begin
Another change of epochs will flash by, as on the election calendar
And what difference does it make if I have forever to spare, I just scratch my balls
 
The world will fall to the floor, fall asleep from the hangover, we will rise again from the graves
Voiceless orators of recent times, a living monument of Stalin
Walking through your ... like ghosts in a concentration camp maze
Just waiting for the Mirage to melt so we can piss on these ...
 
The world will fall to the floor, fall asleep from the hangover, we will rise again from the graves
Voiceless orators of recent times, a living monument of Stalin
Walking through your ... like ghosts in a concentration camp maze
Just waiting for the Mirage to melt so we can piss on these ...

Music video Рэп – макулатура

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