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  • Princesse Angine

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    Английский #1, #2
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Can't afford me

[Femalel]You're the handsomest guy in the yard,
You got them all in the hood,
You are the real street hero, man.
You will fix my heater today,
The neighbours will envy you,
As they find out that you hit on me.
You will read me some of your verses,
You're talented indeed.
Sure, you are kind of versatile
You're a diamond, by all means.
All the ladies run off their feet,
Although you can't, anyway,
Anyway, anyway, yes, anyway...
 
Can't afford me, you can't affford, anyway
I am one of those, whom the gods create piles from
Right into the flesh of reality we're nailed
And, as a reward, words instead of pies, for
Harmfulness.
 
[Male]You're the prettiest girl in the yard,
Most of the gang is sick of ya,
They keep you under their sweaters.
Tour guides take all of their groups
From Moscow just to gaze at you
And maybe, even St. Peters'1
Why you're sick of me as before –
I hardly ever understand.
Possibly, there is no prince yet,
He'll be a general though.
All the fellows run off their feet,
Although you can't, anyway,
Anyway, anyway, yes, anyway...
 
Can't afford me, you can't affford, anyway
I am one of those, whom the gods create walls from.
Whom the vault of reality is standing on
Cutting our veins instead of their thanks, for
Harmfulness.
 
[Teen]Mom, I am the toughest in the yard,
They all afraid me in the hood,
And I'm respected up on the Street.
In September I will be twelve,
Well, how long will you say
To me that I am your clever kid.
Do you wan't me to get degree,
To become a Superman,
But I'm sitting here on the bridge
And keep on singing 'Peremen'.2
Why the duck3 you run off your feet?
Although you can't, anyway,
Anyway, anyway, yes, anyway...
 
Can't afford me, you can't affford, anyway
I am one of those, whom the gods create piles from
Right into the flesh of reality we're nailed
And, as a reward, words instead of pies.
 
Can't afford me, you can't affford, anyway
I am one of those, whom the gods create walls from.
Whom the vault of reality is standing on
Cutting our veins instead of their thanks, for
Harmfulness.
 
  • 1. Saint Petersberg (in russian it is rhyme to sweaters
  • 2. The "Changes" song of V.Tsoy, the famous russian rock-singer
  • 3. (euph.) fuck
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