Lyrics Siberian Meat Grinder - Стиль

Rain and drought, storm or calm
Smg, Vasya V - we develop our style

In this pill, everything that we love, we collect clubs
Like a rubik's cube call me Rick Rubin
Marching under the tambourine, I'm Stanley Kubrick
The radiance of our Siberian perfume style will wake
This is ours, we cook this porridge ourselves
A brand like Kalashnikov, we plow like an ox in a field
You sleep we carry graffiti virus by city
Moscow, Siberia, Peter, at a repeat, we are going to you

Yeah yeah come on here microphone
Yeah yeah yeah get the tape player
Pa-pa-pa while the wick is on
Everything is dust, I am developing my style

This is my style and I have forged it for years
In it, the glitter of the dogs became dark evil nights
All the blows that I received and delivered
You became old, we only gained strength
Year after year, day after day, week after week
Speakers tear, beats sound, panels roll
Again in business, netted the planet
I spend more on the road than you on the Internet

Meat grinder chopping hands while the pack barks
Thirty Six Hell Rooms - Our Staten Island
You run along the rye, but they won’t catch you at the edge
Drowning you in the dark waters, Mordor will seem like a paradise
Here is the whole clan, order 66 is given
Hello to the enemies, we don’t have them, but there is a plan
Forward like a ram, striding broadly on everyone’s heads
Petersburg-Siberian hurricane blows everyone
Respect to those who are busy, who do not sleep at night,
Despite the storm and calm, his style shakes
You are desperate, we bring the good news
Here the smg microphone has two zero one six
Against the bacteria of unbelief, there are thousands of them
We put bricks in the walls of our empire
Scream, don't scream, my style weighs ten tons
Not rushing such music? Turn off the recorder & # 33;