Текст песни Казак Бабай - Оборона Руси

DEFENSE OF RUSSIA

Checking our rage,
Calling us to battle,
Jarosh carved the maidan
Spark of the third world.
Not in the first died death.
We saw not such.
But they opened in an acute light
Face in masks and without them.
Here, as Paralympics,
I drove to the Maydan
In the stroller and on the stiletto heels -
Mrs. CapitelMan.
Here, clinching independence,
The pro-German champion,
In the forbidden crotch
Vitaliy Etinzon is beating.
Here are Prime Buckeye and Frothman,
The one that pulls in the side,
A new "drong", that is, a front
They come east.
Zhidou-Austro-Hungro-Psheki ... -
Zapadan explosive package.
In this gang, brother, forever
Ours was not and no.
Not the Slavs, but the Maidans,
As in the seventeenth, then ...
Changed on the Maidan
Horseradish on a radish, tak-yes.
That such, brother, tricks.
Foul foreheads flew.
Some have pops,
In others, chubs crack.
Where are you, the power of the bearish?
Where is the Warsaw Pact?
From an ambush in Bialowieza
Three "cut-off" hit at close range ...
The firmament of bones, chain mail and rags -
Our hereditary overload.
But moskal by blood - Rusich,
Like a Ukrainian and Belarusian.
And in embraces to the crunch
We have to squeeze ourselves into a fist,
Because to be us Rus,
Otherwise, we have nothing.
Even if you cut us, at least cut it,
Three times we are one people!
You must be stupid Belovezhskaya
Urgently give back.
We will recall the "forty-fifth" ...
But already in our house:
"Right Sector" - NATO Sector
Together with Turkey in the Crimea.
The Archangel on the Wings
The cloak of the veil is smoke.
And from Kiev to Crimea
Russia - in the third world.
On a live bear skin
They divide Merkel and Oba ...
Rolled, as not a fool,
Globalist lip.
Draw Rothschild and Rockefeller
His kusmary from kalacha ...
And it's time to eat a hair dryer
With this mafia finish.
In a wheelchair
Shuffle and - adyeu.
Ukraine is not Alaska, -
We will return it.
And with glory in the patrol
Sevastopol is waiting for the enemy.
The Peninsula in the Russian Sea
Drop anchor for ages.
In this tide line
Rus entered the hilt.
We are Nakhimov and Kornilov
They ordered us to stand here.
In the world map, as if in cards,
Do not play the fool.
We are to any Bonaparte
Forever we will find the sides.
We are the Alpine crossing,
Like Suvorov, the hook is bent
And in all the lights and fords
Let's return the spirit of Kutuzov.
Banderov's mutants
There is one way - "to sing!"
Or else with the whole Entente
On the birches they must hang.
And you do not have to mend your nerves,
And sign up for the army,
And come on, like Sevastopol,
Defense, brother, keep.
And then we go to the attack
In the world around, so be it,
To a white house with a barracks
In the ocean drown.