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I luv nz!

Artist: VovaZiL'vova (Vova zi L'vova)

Lyrics author:

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To ne Dr Dre, to Met Kvota,
To ne Snoop Dogg z LBS, to Vova zi L'vova!

Chomu chip-chop prydumaly ne ukrayinci,
Za ce ya laden buv by prashchuram usim daty po pyci,
Zamutyly sobi oseledec' odyn i tishylysya, yak dity,
Zamist' toho, shchob cilu kupu kosychok nakrutyty.
Z sharovaramy zahnalys' – zashyrokymy poshyly,
Zapravlyaty yich u choboty shchorazu nema syly,
A choboty – choch i chervoni ta modni, vse z vzuttya nezruchne,
V basketbol u nych hraty zovsim ne tyahne mene.
Vony skladaly dumy ta zaraz ce neaktualno,
Teper davay usim rechytatyv pid bit nebanalnyi.
Nu travu chapaly tak, yak zaraz chorni chapayut',
Ni cych, ni tych ce do choroshoho ne pryzvelo – vsi znayut'.
Vony hopak tancyuvaly, a yak z elektrik buhi,
Nyzniy breyk, cherez ce teper usi moyi potuhy
Vyhlyadayut' ne inakshe, yak parodiya nezrila,
Yak pidrobka dolara na kseroksi chorno-bilomu.

Pryspiv:
I luv nz! I luv nz! I luv nz! I luv nz!
I, I, I luv nz! I, I, I luv nz! I, I, I luv nz!
I luv nz! I luv nz! I luv nz! I luv nz!

Yak Mis'ko Dzekson stav bilym, ya chochu chornym staty,
Zaraz ce dobazaryu i bizu v solyariy zasmahaty
Tak dovho, shchob vreshti-resht pihmentaciya pochornila,
Navit' yakshcho zlize shkira, ya vze vse odno ne budu bilym.
Ot tilky, yak Dzekson teper z nosom mayu problyemy,
Shchob ya potim peresadku shkiry ne mav robyty shchodenno.
Ta ya, na vidminu vid Mis'ka, sharushchyi – chornym buty modno,
I zarady takych rozkladiv ya pidu na vse, shcho zavhodno.
Na yibaneksi chochu bazaryty bez ukrayins'koho akcentu:
You want to fuck me? What you got to drink: Hennessy or Absinthe?
Chochu buty chornym i shchoranku zuby ne vidchyshchaty,
Na foni chornoyi pyky vony vse odno budut' bilymy vyhlyadaty,
Chochu volossya huste y kucheryave, yak u chornych maty,
Shchob bez napryahiv mozna bulo cow-row zaplitaty,
Chochu buty chornym, shchob basketbol, yak Brayant hraty,
Yak Ayverson vsich rozvodyty i, yak Karter, strybaty.

Pryspiv

Tupi slova chorno y nepravylno anhliys'koyu movoyu
Ya vymovlyayu, yak zacyklena plativka znovu i znovu,
Chochu robyty shchos' neordynarne, svoye, ale ne vychodyt',
Troshky plahiatu v moyiy tvorchosti chtos' shchorazu znachodyt'.
Vstavlyayu folklor ukrayins'kyi, avtentychnyi, realnyi,
Ale z bit takyi, yak vsyudy prostyi i banalnyi.
I kupu pimpochok i prykoliv z chornych brativ zdyrayu,
Na te, shchob samomu shchos' zahnaty rozumu chasto ne vystachaye.
Vse, shcho ya roblyu, vse, shcho namahayus' mutyty,
Yakymos' chynom pov’yazane z afro-amerykans'kym svitom.
Vdyahayu na holovu bilu pov’yazku, yak u hravciv NBA –
A babci i didusi dumayut', shcho u mene ranena holova.
Vdyahayu bandanu, yak 2Pac, a vyhlyadayu, yak baba Marusya,
Koly po vulyci ydu, to z mene vsi chiksy smiyut'sya,
A zamist' toho, shcho dyvlyachys', yaka u mene matnya,
Dumaly, shcho v mene velykyi i tovstyi, dumayut', shcho vkakavsya ya.

Pryspiv (2)




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