Odessa Songtext
Chernobyl
Check it out, I said yo
'Posed to been born in '86, my folks were urgently advised that they be patient, news said the radiation would've made me sick
Here I am, sicker than ever
Better M nobody better
I'm a legend trapped in the wrong era
There are plenty who've gone farther with lesser
Prob'ly what makes 'em think they can try the YODfathеr like Bonasera
Take a whiff from thе rose of my suit
Check it out, I said yo
'Posed to been born in '86, my folks were urgently advised that they be patient, news said the radiation would've made me sick
Here I am, sicker than ever
Better M nobody better
I'm a legend trapped in the wrong era
There are plenty who've gone farther with lesser
Prob'ly what makes 'em think they can try the YODfathеr like Bonasera
Take a whiff from thе rose of my suit
[?]
What do ya know? Sweet sounds of the balalaika
Make them respect you, they ain't gotta like you
Don't these losers psyche you out of your cycle
People don't usually give it up until you lyin' in a box or on Riker's
[?], that's [?], remember I told you
They don't wanna see your lil' street corner hobby turn global
They don't want you to escape poverty, KGB and Chernobyl
Up in your high rise, orderin' Noble
Met a man who had it all, said, "I need more than that"
Settle for no lesser, getting love out in Odessa, foreign cat
Got whips like the Senate, fuck Orrin Hatch
Fuck a so-called producer and his boring batch
With some heat in that pack, woulda been made it, been straight
More well off than Bob Geldof (who?)
Used to rack my brain like I was the one performin' poorly
Them herbs just weren't meant to score my story
Fuck you talkin' 'bout, son?
[?]
Just that quick, the wall was a pile of bricks
Devil's greatest trick gets lost in the mix
Hash balled up like toddler fists
Tar ooze out the clip, cigars, I'm rich
Sell the gulag archipelago on the skiff
Peer into bottomless pit, I don't do kitsch
Yeltsin vomit in the sink, dab blood from his lips
In the spot Puffy would drink
Throw new money at new money 'til Shyne do his thing
VI with the worst guy waitin' in the wings
I'm on CCCP time, they had to stop and think
Private equity'll run a train on your central bank
Viagra crunchin' like Skittles
I went from dead stock to the top of discogs like Stinger missiles
Now you want 'em back but it's only one issue (I gave 'em to some guy)
The collective works of Karl Marx, feed the ducks in Gorky Park
Bird watch, don't confuse robin and a lark
The air crisp, the sun sharp
Tell my old bird hop in the car
In the winter the Moskvitch takes a few tries to start
You think you had your ending right there
What do ya know? Sweet sounds of the balalaika
Make them respect you, they ain't gotta like you
Don't these losers psyche you out of your cycle
People don't usually give it up until you lyin' in a box or on Riker's
[?], that's [?], remember I told you
They don't wanna see your lil' street corner hobby turn global
They don't want you to escape poverty, KGB and Chernobyl
Up in your high rise, orderin' Noble
Met a man who had it all, said, "I need more than that"
Settle for no lesser, getting love out in Odessa, foreign cat
Got whips like the Senate, fuck Orrin Hatch
Fuck a so-called producer and his boring batch
With some heat in that pack, woulda been made it, been straight
More well off than Bob Geldof (who?)
Used to rack my brain like I was the one performin' poorly
Them herbs just weren't meant to score my story
Fuck you talkin' 'bout, son?
[?]
Just that quick, the wall was a pile of bricks
Devil's greatest trick gets lost in the mix
Hash balled up like toddler fists
Tar ooze out the clip, cigars, I'm rich
Sell the gulag archipelago on the skiff
Peer into bottomless pit, I don't do kitsch
Yeltsin vomit in the sink, dab blood from his lips
In the spot Puffy would drink
Throw new money at new money 'til Shyne do his thing
VI with the worst guy waitin' in the wings
I'm on CCCP time, they had to stop and think
Private equity'll run a train on your central bank
Viagra crunchin' like Skittles
I went from dead stock to the top of discogs like Stinger missiles
Now you want 'em back but it's only one issue (I gave 'em to some guy)
The collective works of Karl Marx, feed the ducks in Gorky Park
Bird watch, don't confuse robin and a lark
The air crisp, the sun sharp
Tell my old bird hop in the car
In the winter the Moskvitch takes a few tries to start
You think you had your ending right there
