Rogal DDL - Turborower

I come over to them – they were supposed to scatter the ashes
I look, damn, it’s a wake
I ask if it’s the end of Europe
Since no one fell out the window
Today’s young bucks
It’s some kind of supreme flop
They still want money for verses
I wouldn’t even sell them a diss
Fuck a disco with plastic guitars
Scene sways like wedding hits
For a pro rapper, music doesn’t entertain me
Yesterday the street, today on stage in furs
They suck dick like there’s no tomorrow
Shit, I’ve got timeless verses memorized in my head
This rap is a follow up to the rap that showed me the way
If you want, gulp it like a young pelican
Neighborhoods say I should roll in without a muzzle
Rap stars are like jihad
And if they aren’t trolls…
Then I don’t give a fuck about someone’s huff
Not my story anyway
But like Adaś Miauczyński, you’re burnt out in the blocks

Don’t head for a knock out
Cause I’m not inviting you to tango
Rap rank in the roles of a poser
Not banging?
Then bang, pew pew with a finger
I only go hard for blowjobs of course
Then she says she wants to be my whore
It amuses me when they ask if I know she’s a slut
It surprises me that under such crude info
Considering that a henpecked guy crushes them

She had me deep
Like the bottom of Baikal
They cut down like an answering machine
A fucking benchmark
Cloth or no cloth
Go, go talk to the mirror
Enough
I’m popping off like a Kalashnikov
Since you’re right
Then the rest is ours
I’m not apologizing for this rap
Haters are like verses here
Yes, yes, yeah

Put your punchlines on a leash,
Move your contacts, you can afford a dig.
Unless you choose an audiovisual way
I'll drown you like U-boots in a brewery.
Saturday is over.
Sunday morning. Menu: France, Italy, cocoa.
I need to repeat, but with your old woman.
It’s the coach’s windbreaker team.
Rogal this, Rogal that – I don’t give a shit.
Why should I care about someone else's privacy?
And if they can't separate rap from a farce,
Why should they separate bullshit from a verse?
Are you connecting the dots or digging holes?
I anchor rap, let the tide take the buoys away.
Tanks are rolling in. Your diagnosis is faultless.
I haunt the scum like a nightmare, stealing sleep from their eyes.
Poverty, misery, too bad I’m getting fatter,
While at the same time slimming down in the premier league.
For now. The border was liquid.
If you don't know what to rap about, why don’t you finish?
You'll be a wanted poster sent after me.
My location keeps dodging your truth.
They grab fame, growing feathers.
Too bad that they… forget.
They imagine if this is to be the elite,
It’s as convincing as nationalists in [?]
Do you know what you’re catching from today as a rapper?
Dancers with feminist views at lap dances.
If you're impressed by real gangster life,
Grab a gun and blow a hundred grand.
If you're impressed by real drug-dealing,
Leave your mom ten bucks for a lawyer.
If hard drugs, hellish comedowns,
Then stop your sweetheart’s menstruation.
Unless you really want a child,
Then I don't know – I’ll go and boil you some water for tea.
Fact is fact, life is worthless.
Everyone shoves their dubious truth down your throat.
Treat this rap with distance.
Good luck.