РЕП - История про пса - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

-Don’t whine, shut your mouth, go to your place, bitch! in the eyes of rudeness the beloved owner is a scoundrel, with the cold alone in a booth and an old jacket, while away the day, taking everything as a joke, there is love - he loves and even strokes sometimes, but the eyes are not the same as the puppy who was brought into the house under that very jacket smiles, caress, well, what then, ah, the street is not familiar faces, he began to grin, they drove him to who you have become, everyone doesn’t like the food, but it has to be, and it just so happens that you don’t give a damn about those who are essentially different, the cry of the soul is heard in the cheekbones, and howling in the booth, I’m breathing, I’ll fight, but in the meantime I’m thinking about how good it is to be a cat who calmly walks into that house, so that’s what I’m talking about, if I wanted to, I would have long ago gnawed that rope, the short one would have clung to the owner’s throat so densely, and blood would flow like the rivers of Babylon, I would sweep away the stones thrown in my direction, but they didn’t care what was there, what wasn’t, what was what was gone, he broke off the collar and ran wherever his eyes were looking, and didn’t care at all what was there in that yard where he grew up where rudeness and dampness and sticks and whistles were accepted by a flock of street servants as their own, feelings appeared there where everyone is for one and the collar does not put pressure on the pride of freedom and is free here... because of the barking there are no consequences when running one day near the house of my relatives I saw as the owner smoked, he was completely gray-haired, when he saw his friend, he knelt down and prayed for the mukhtar to come, but the mukhtar did not come, the flock left, and he waited on his knees, where were you before when I was sad in the booth, the owner died after a neighbor's drinking session, the daughter forgot her father after these disasters, completely drank himself into this abyss and the walls, who now he became and remember who he was before, we are always responsible for those we tamed whom, turning his muzzle to the side, rushed towards the pack with the end and the dog has a feeling to remember they don’t feel anything, only the stones of the house closed the shutters and among all the graves I found my owner whom I loved, but I can’t return him, we are always responsible for those we tame!