KD the Stranger - Мало Обычных - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

There are cuffs on the pants, reposts of fashionable public pages

And in the status of a quote from Remarque... well, fuck you, a philosopher,

Every designer, photographer, upload a photo to Instagram

of his Downtown munch as if we don’t fucking give a fuck

Everyone is different from everyone else on the other side of the blue screen

They spit saliva, considering themselves unique and zealously

Trying to prove that a couple of quotes are motivators for everyone

They'll make you instantly fuckable, while mom's neck crunches from being hung on her

Digital innovators

And everyone joins the army of hydroponics - Klava warriors

Weapons are your comment, and everyone is waging an imaginary war

Within social portals, where apparently he trolls subtly

But all his genius will not leave the stall of stuffy and quiet rooms

Heads are empty, bellies are full,

Lao was right..., omitting the galaxy of metaphors, to the point and clearly

In this generation, the Internet has opened a platform for spineless fuckers

Burdening your relatives, you will soon realize that they have little left.

Before he even had time to receive his salary, he already stole the bill for medicines, and the light from

It's a communal apartment, it also wipes the backside, proving for hours

What a fucking expert he is in all areas, it would be better if they took the assholes and left happiness

Under the door of the orphanage it would be for nothing, or it would be better if they threw the little guy while he was sleeping in a ditch

When they say this, it’s time to trust in your genius,

A lot of people recognize themselves here, but they don’t recognize it, it’s like a flashback

That's why you're making a trash track, but go to hell - my #hashtag

And no matter how trite it may sound, it’s better to be boorish than suspiciously polite

You thought of yourself as a king, but you go first to the drain, apparently you are a pawn

where is the gap in your brains, alas - I bury the bits as before,

I transfer the album every forty days, verbal suicide - my tongue was suspended

MC there are more fans here

You can't tell Delhi from my wonderful world. I Gotta tell more about him. Was it you? (Elliot/Elmo/moose)

This is the universe under the views of the track and come on, don’t sneak in as a guest

You're a gambler, but I buried the bones

The priest's hand is on the child's knee, with a trusting look. Family at home

We all kind of walk under God, but some to the left, some to ourselves

Your pride is measured in numbers, fate has changed you

So ask yourself, who are you to judge me?

You are unique, tattoos, arthouse, vintage, Jack Daniels, original

Now among the herd of others, to be ordinary = to be unique

Wherever you spit - uniqueness, every third genius is here

Should I do something? No, that's why dad is there

Bloodshot eyes blink hysterically

Too many are not like everyone, too few are ordinary