Текст песни 4-й корпус - Удар за ударом, 90-ые годы.

Nineties, cruelty sets the fashion! Lawlessness dictates the rules of freedom. Aggression attracts the minds of Caudle people to Caudle By the law of nature, who is stronger is right! Whoever is wrong, all concepts in life have turned to dust. Groups from the street live by their own rules - Severely punish those who violate them! Broken fucks on the sidewalks and roads, Someone is moving there, but someone does not give a damn Wounds sit darn at home, tomorrow there will be a massacre again, you are not few, but there are many of them - take the bat on the road. Here they are all assembled! Do you feel anxiety in your soul? So cover your face better. Come on! Wall to wall converges, who will understand this system ?! Moved at each other - do your job! Blow by blow - a broken fucker, Trample your brother into the ground! My head is punctured, your shirt is covered in blood. There is no pity, no sympathy, and no more fear! Blow by blow, Blow by blow, Blow by blow! Do not! Blow by blow - a broken fucker, Trample your brother into the ground! My head is punctured, your shirt is covered in blood. There is no pity, no sympathy, and no more fear! The dashing nineties left a wound in my soul, As before, in my dreams, I see my mother crying, When he patches the wounds of his own son, And on the fucker the scars show the whole picture! Bodily beatings, terrible rooms at night, In order to prove that I am worth something! It's all so stupid, but you can't hide your youth. They called us a gopot, afraid to wash ourselves with blood. People were instilled in fear, they were not allowed to live in peace, When more than once I wanted to say to myself: "Enough!" And every evening with a fight, as if to work in formation, Stay to the last, brother, otherwise be an outcast! After all, the flock will not tolerate betrayal or weakness. If he is desperate and stupid, he will pass for bravery in battle. And there is no difference here, believe me, who will be put first, After all, we will be back next week! The enemy will be punished, all the bitches will be punished! More than once I will stain my hands in blood! Blow by blow - broken fucking, Trample your brother into the ground! My head is punctured, your shirt is covered in blood. There is no pity, no sympathy, and no more fear! Nineties, because of the brothers on the "mayors", Crowds of drug addicts in sketched porches! Those who were young gathered in droves. They looked like wolves in a foreign area. For those boys of my city, Who did not see accordions and did not inhale gunpowder. They always stood tight, because they were strong in spirit, They themselves knew the streets from someone's rumors. One idea is a fight in which you must not fall off your feet. And if, what to raise from the asphalt of close boys. One and the same goal - to fill up suckers And run on until the garbage arrives! And tomorrow everything will be all over again - there are gatherings in the districts, And after the whistle in the courtyards, the sirens of "Ambulance" are heard! And if suddenly someone can't sleep on the streets I'll have to spend several weeks in the hospital. After all, not a single district was left without attention. This was the meaning of each meeting! Now I think to myself, and life is not the same! Many have forgotten the movements of the yard! Today they rub against those with whom they fucked yesterday And they call the brother of an old enemy! The endless crowd has already quieted down! On the street now everyone is filling up garbage! Yes, and half a city of guys, no longer an ordinary one: "Fourth corps! Strikes of the nineties !!!" Blow by blow - a broken fucker, Trample your brother into the ground! My head is punctured, your shirt is covered in blood. There is no pity, no sympathy, and no more fear! Blow by blow - broken fucking, Trample your brother into the ground! My head is punctured, your shirt is covered in blood. There is no pity, no sympathy, and no more fear! Other lyrics "4th building"