Lyrics Dежавю - ХиПпи-ХоП
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The lyrics of the song are provided for your reference Dежавю - ХиПпи-ХоП, and also a translation of a song with a video or clip.
1 Куплет:
Куча аллегорий, стопка афоризмов,
На эшафот за фразы, в опере только призрак.
Люди жаждут зрелищ, но где ваш импресарио?
Пустил на вас ток\Восток, ошибся полюсами он.
Вы на пороге Хип-Хопа, но там рэп-цербер,
Дежавю довел до ручки вас и вы открыли двери.
Ваш зарифмованный мир, дешево-абстрактен,
И хиты выдает лишь ваш гострайтер.
Единаличный Style "Никому не верь",
Каждый сам себе кумир-Дориан Грей,
Ваше Бла-бла-бла исправлять уже поздно,
И лучше бы читал ваш внутренний голос.
Я достучусь до верхов, дабы предать контраст,
Мой рэп поднимет мертвых-спиритический сеанс.
Я выжму все из вас на максимум до талого,
А потом возьму рэп ваш и сожгу дотла его.
Припев:
Как бы вы не бежали, ваша удача спит,
От судьбы не убежать, это опасный спринт.
Эволюция текста для зрителя это ход?
Ваши сопли превратили рэп в ХиПпи-Хоп.
2 Куплет:
Покуда я ранен и перебинтован,
Битами и стопками перебитовок.
Мой трек на реппит он вас перебил током,
Ты берегись там впереди стоп А!
Ваш монстер на постер, ему поздно на остров,
И вот подступ он острый, ваш флоу толстый и просто.
Он не влезет в репак, будет плесень съедать,
Надо лезвий сюда,ты для крейзи путан.
Ты с этим флоу тут бездарен, им мне влом вам фристайлить,
Рэп мой в окнах изданий,ведь мой флот из деталей.
Мое батл и панчи, ваше госпел и скитом,
Поразить хотите, но я хейтер вы хипстер.
Вы якобы МС, лишь бы в микро брякать,
Раз вы музыканты, то вам оркестровая яма.
Да какой там слух, не видать вам нот,
Медведь наступил на ухо-Вангог.
Вам испытание парашутистов, типо шутер,
Но вся загвоздка в том, что вам не дали парашута.
Verse 1:
A bunch of allegories, a stack of aphorisms,
On the scaffold for phrases, in the opera only a ghost.
People crave spectacles, but where is your manager?
He let a current on you \ East, he made a mistake with the poles.
You are on the threshold of Hip-Hop, but there is a rap Cerberus,
Déjà vu brought the handle to you and you opened the door.
Your rhymed world, cheaply abstract,
And hits are issued only by your gostrayter.
Equal Style "Don't Believe Anyone,"
Everyone is his idol, Dorian Gray,
Your blah blah blah it's too late to correct
And it would be better to read your inner voice.
I will reach the top in order to betray the contrast
My rap will raise a dead-seance.
I'll squeeze all of you to maximum to thaw,
And then I'll take your rap and burn it to the ground.
Chorus:
No matter how you run, your luck sleeps,
Do not run away from fate, this is a dangerous sprint.
The evolution of the text for the viewer is a move?
Your snot turned rap in hippie hop.
2 Verse:
While I am wounded and bandaged,
Bits and stacks of interruptions.
My track on the repit, he interrupted you with a current,
Take heed there in front of the feet A!
Your poster monster, it's late for him on the island,
And here it is a sharp approach, your flow is thick and simple.
He will not fit in repack, will eat mold,
You need blades here, you are for a crazy confused.
You are incompetent with this flow, they break it to you freestyle,
Rap my in the windows of publications, because my fleet of parts.
My battle and punches, your gospel music and hermitage,
You want to hit, but I'm a hipster you hipster.
You are supposedly MS, if only in a micro bryakat,
If you are musicians, then you will have an orchestra pit.
Yes, what's the rumor, you will not see the notes,
The bear stepped on Wangog's ear.
You test parashutistov, Tipo shooter,
But the whole snag is that they didn't give you a parachute.
A bunch of allegories, a stack of aphorisms,
On the scaffold for phrases, in the opera only a ghost.
People crave spectacles, but where is your manager?
He let a current on you \ East, he made a mistake with the poles.
You are on the threshold of Hip-Hop, but there is a rap Cerberus,
Déjà vu brought the handle to you and you opened the door.
Your rhymed world, cheaply abstract,
And hits are issued only by your gostrayter.
Equal Style "Don't Believe Anyone,"
Everyone is his idol, Dorian Gray,
Your blah blah blah it's too late to correct
And it would be better to read your inner voice.
I will reach the top in order to betray the contrast
My rap will raise a dead-seance.
I'll squeeze all of you to maximum to thaw,
And then I'll take your rap and burn it to the ground.
Chorus:
No matter how you run, your luck sleeps,
Do not run away from fate, this is a dangerous sprint.
The evolution of the text for the viewer is a move?
Your snot turned rap in hippie hop.
2 Verse:
While I am wounded and bandaged,
Bits and stacks of interruptions.
My track on the repit, he interrupted you with a current,
Take heed there in front of the feet A!
Your poster monster, it's late for him on the island,
And here it is a sharp approach, your flow is thick and simple.
He will not fit in repack, will eat mold,
You need blades here, you are for a crazy confused.
You are incompetent with this flow, they break it to you freestyle,
Rap my in the windows of publications, because my fleet of parts.
My battle and punches, your gospel music and hermitage,
You want to hit, but I'm a hipster you hipster.
You are supposedly MS, if only in a micro bryakat,
If you are musicians, then you will have an orchestra pit.
Yes, what's the rumor, you will not see the notes,
The bear stepped on Wangog's ear.
You test parashutistov, Tipo shooter,
But the whole snag is that they didn't give you a parachute.