Countdown - Zero, Frank La Tanica

Hm, tri poloski

Fatti di notte a gridare nei boschi

Pieno di muco ti lasci cadere e ti svegli in un buco cratere Patomskij

Tutte le sere quando mi riduco uno straccio

Ripenso a quello che faccio

Qui lo traducono in grido d’aiuto ma è solo perché non mi piaccio

Mi cambio la faccia e la metto da guerra

M’esplode il miocardio e la faccia di merda

La vostra bravura sul beat qui giace come da terra

Io già ce n’ho una caterva

Non c'è una cura per quello che ho dentro Split

I mio riflesso mi osserva mentre l’attesa per il mio decesso mi snerva

Plus ultra come l’MK la mia gente casca come gli alberi di Tunguska

Poi si rialzano calzano scarpe macchiate e si incazzano come gli avessi toccato

la madre

Qui siamo messi lontano ma male lavate di capo col Paco Rabanne sciupato rubato

da quello scaffale

Di rime io un fantastiliardo tu fantasticando su quanto sei babbo

Mi pappo il possibile l’inverosimile passo il mio tempo sul beat castigando

Rilasso la voce prima che collasso del tutto e mi manca anche poco

Fra in testa ho un ritardo rimango di sasso ho lo sguardo distrutto di Palla di

Lardo prima di far fuoco

Perduto nel vuoto frà come gli echi di un brutto passato remoto

Dentro la mia testa come un maremoto

Dagli occhi più sale che nel mare morto

Mi guardo in torno in un mondo di matti io sono l’unico savio

Però è il contrario schegge nei graffi cocci di vetro nel cranio

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe

Quanto tempo mi rimane… questo tempo mi rimane sullo stomaco…

Miny, moe, miny, moe

Penso a delle cose strane mentre le persone sane no…

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Mi ritieni con… dei problemi seri brò…

Miny, moe, miny, moe

Me la vivo male però me la vivo ancora un po'…

Miny, moe

Le cantine… notti al gelo

Le cartine… col Vangelo

Le panchine… gli occhi al cielo

Sera killer frate lo sfacelo

Faccio pensieri nocivi e non dormo

Fuori la testa da sotto la sabbia

Mi guardo intorno e come la Plath sarebbe da metterla in forno

Calmati Franky respira persisti

Spaccati i denti per quanto li stringi ma mi raccomando resisti

Tingi la tela con il tuo cervello solo dopo averlo premuto nei dischi

Sai Peter Pan nella dura realtà è volato con una cintura lontano da qua facendo

dei pensieri tristi

Mi sto divertendo ma non sto ridendo

Qui non sto vivendo sto ammazzando il tempo

Scorrazzando a vento lascio che mi guidi e tipico mi pento

Mi dicono ''ridi che ti svegli freddo''

Sti rincoglioniti che li vedi dentro siti scemo solo li ti senti fresco

Attitudini da maledetto quasi non ti puoi alzare dal letto

Per le inquietudini frà come incudini sopra al tuo petto

Faccio il gioco del disperato

Roulette russa a pieno tamburo

Sono tutti il cane di Trilussa

Fanno la morale questi paraculo

Poi nei quartieri di Roma cinodromi

Quei cani corrono sotto degli ordini

E quelli randagi e bastardi per strada ci crepano in preda ad effetti psicotropi

Sempre anger dalle fogne Cliff

I miei testi per voi come Poignee Griffe

Senza nulla togliere a chi vuole gioie

Paranoie e noie però loyalty

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe

Quanto tempo mi rimane… questo tempo mi rimane sullo stomaco…

Miny, moe, miny, moe

Penso a delle cose strane mentre le persone sane no…

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Mi ritieni con… dei problemi seri brò…

Miny, moe, miny, moe

Me la vivo male però me la vivo ancora un po'…

Miny, moe

Hm, tri poloski

Made at night to scream in the woods

Filled with mucus you drop and wake up in a Patomsky crater hole

Every night when I cut myself a rag

I think back to what I do

Here they translate it into a cry for help but that's only because I don't like myself

I change my face and wear it for war

Myocardium explodes and my face like shit explodes

Your beat prowess here lies as if from the ground

I already have a bunch of them

There is no cure for what I have inside Split

My reflection watches me while waiting for my death unnerves me

Plus ultra like MK my people fall like Tunguska trees

Then they get up and put on stained shoes and get pissed off as if I had touched them

the mother

Here we are placed far away but badly washed of the head with the ruined and stolen Paco Rabanne

from that shelf

Rhymes I a zillion you fantasizing about what you are father

I eat as much as possible, the unlikely I spend my time on the beat punishing

I relax my voice before I completely collapse and I miss even a little

Between in the head I have a delay I am stunned I have the destroyed look of Palla di

Lard before firing

Lost in the void between like the echoes of an ugly distant past

Inside my head like a tidal wave

More salt from the eyes than in the dead sea

I look around in a world of crazy people I am the only wise one

But it's the other way around splinters in the glass shards scratches in the skull

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe

How much time I have left ... this time remains on my stomach ...

Miny, moe, miny, moe

I think of strange things while healthy people don't ...

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Do you think me with ... serious problems brò ...

Miny, moe, miny, moe

I live badly but I still live a little ...

Miny, moe

The cellars ... nights in the cold

The maps… with the Gospel

The benches ... the eyes to the sky

Evening killer brother the collapse

I have noxious thoughts and don't sleep

Head out from under the sand

I look around and how the Plath would be put in the oven

Calm down Franky breathe persistently

Smash your teeth as much as you clench them but please hold on

Paint the canvas with your brain only after pressing it into the discs

You know Peter Pan in the harsh reality flew with a belt away from here doing

sad thoughts

I'm having fun but I'm not laughing

I'm not living here, I'm killing time

Running around in the wind, I let it guide me and typically I regret it

They tell me `` laugh you wake up cold ''

Sti stoned that you see them in stupid sites only you feel fresh

Attitudes to be cursed you can hardly get out of bed

For the restlessness between as anvils on your chest

I play the game of the desperate

Full drum Russian roulette

They are all Trilussa's dog

These paraculo are moral

Then in the districts of Rome dog tracks

Those dogs run under orders

And those stray and bastards on the street die in the throes of psychotropic effects

Always anger from the Cliff sewers

My lyrics for you as Poignee Griffe

Without taking anything away from those who want joys

Paranoia and boredom, however, loyalty

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe

How much time I have left ... this time remains on my stomach ...

Miny, moe, miny, moe

I think of strange things while healthy people don't ...

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Do you think me with ... serious problems brò ...

Miny, moe, miny, moe

I live badly but I still live a little ...

Miny, moe