Kasta - Россиянцы и американе Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

Russians and Americans

It's an ordinary day, and the same I'm like I'm
walking in my boots on a frosty morning.
The nose becomes blurred, and the wind, the bitch, the cheek prick, The
brown bear stomped on the rope next to it.
From his muzzle sweep a couple of bread crumbs,
I'll remember the Bells and press the matryoshka,
I'll tighten my ear-flap with ear-flaps and the song will be tightened.
When the nightingale answers me from the birch.
The balalaika does not have a string, but it makes so much sense.
As in that woman, that meets the rocker,
Pour fire to me and nuddai park -
In Hollywood, they gave the role to the Russian peasant.
 
The nightingale will tell me the birch.
The nightingale will tell me the birch.
 
Even if I fasten my shirt,
My soul is still open.
In it, everything was mixed, as on the screen,
Russians and Americans.
Even if I fasten my shirt,
My soul is still open.
In it everything is mixed, as on the screen,
Russians and Americans
 
My mom made porridge, made cabbage soup,
But Anton 1 left Rashi, like fuckin 'shit.
And then the sun somehow became a stove,
Expiring afterwards, I scream: 'Son of a bitch'.
White white just a bit to chew for Adam's apple.
Negro Negro says: 'Get on my dick'
And then every second straight hooligan.
At every corner the cops shout: 'Put your gun down.'
I tell the taxi driver: 'Do not drive, you bastard.'
He to me pokes a gun in a forehead: 'Nigga, nigga'.
I take one ticket 'New-York-Moscow',
So that I will give Oscar for my soup and mush.
 
Even if I fasten my shirt,
Still my soul wide open,
In it, everything was mixed, as on the screen,
Russians and Americans.
Even if I fasten my shirt,
Still my soul open,
In it, everything was mixed, as on the screen,
Russians ...
 
Is it true that banknotes will soon disappear?
Is it true that airplanes will cease to fall?
What did the rovers find there? (ah?)
Where I come from, it's all myths,
Forbidden routers and there is no information.
Where are the artificial organs, what is there with immortality?
Who will become the best rapper of the millennium?
What are you standing there like, where is this information?
Or maybe you have also been kept secret?
Where I come from, people do not really like
Something to invent, except for old guns.
Fine tuning of the machine by hitting the sledgehammer,
Tilting the glass with the impact of the chimes.
A paratrooper, capable of making a somersault from a horizontal bar,
Talents are like weeds on the asphalt.
Itself, I look, you stand slightly guilty,
After all, the facts will come up for sure tomorrow.
 
Even if I fasten my shirt,
My soul is still open.
In it, everything was mixed, as on the screen,
Russians and Americans.
Even if I fasten my shirt,
My soul is still open.
In it everything is mixed up, as on the screen,
Russians and Americans.
 
The nightingale
will answer me, The nightingale will tell me the birch.
 


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