69 it’s not 67

Autumn has returned, the darks of its shadows in the window. September, seven, 2026, this is grey Moscow, black coffee, windowsill The parking lot isn't a park, it's a junk lot. Cigarette smoke in your face, on one two The lighter lights, but it should a fire My verse into the mic my cheek An old method freestyle. This isn't dub step or Xavi metal. This tune has a dark tint. I'm Jimmylip 7, I'm fed up effect Mandela, I came over to say a few words. Who should get up, who should lie down? Figure it out for yourself, it's six o'clock. This is a gift from life, don't forget about don’t be alone We're swimming well, it's getting colder outside. Don't be silent, man, what are you doing? Pick up your jaw from the floor, tuck your chin in. My two-letter note ricocheted off the chords. And somehow I forgot—to everyone who was blowing— Good morning 9 months...6 years 69 is NOT six-seven yin-yang WHEN DIFFERENT is together In short, my mic said it all Who the fuck is awake this morning?! - Here you go!