Комейран ft. Tiki-Ti - Голод и жажда - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Comeiran:

Where to start, the beginnings of reason, it was a sad holiday, I never had to forgive, well, hello friends, I was developed before, now we are different, but no, but the gap of days, mine set the style, to become more diverse than them, because I am not a beast

I live through music, a delicious track runs through my veins, in Russian rap, but the channel, in my art, is a flashback, my phantom memory, hello to the creator, because I published a poem from the days of a traitor, erasing them from old diaries

A couple of texts, not recorded tracks at night they whispered by name, wait, come sign me up, but I’m empty, although wait, pun, this is a pseudo-furor

life is a pseudo-resort, fat in the villa and skinny in the apartment, but he puffs on the daughter of the disgusting rich, while pulp fiction drowns out Irina on TI-VI

You again didn’t understand the meaning, listener,

A broken thermometer is not scary, what I inspired is more important, and I probably said a lot, many-sided, pseudo-intellectually ill

the track is recorded, someone understood

Chorus x2:

What happens next doesn’t matter to me at all, I don’t care about everything, just hunger and thirst,

Only hunger and thirst will wake you one day

only in these feelings there is not and will not be false

Tiki-Ti:

Under the bat under my brother's ear in the same cauldron in spirit,

We and those who are not around will not forget our strong faith,

In a dream, laughter is heard and white mountains are visible,

There is clean air, no pain, no tears from grief.

Whole life monitoring every day on repeat,

Drawing the curtains, I ask myself who is worth what here, have time to build your own and become part of history,

It might be bad, but I'm still myself.

My inner world consists of shades and cartoons,

Dusty comics and disks, no matter what we were hanging on,

Who was ahead of us turned sour so quickly,

This is not to be nasty, let's rummage through dirty things.

If I were a bird I would look at you from above,

A sad melody will load and throw overboard,

And there is no bottom, give me your hand, bro,

No, there’s nothing to catch here, I’m retreating into myself.