More songs by Shellerini
More songs by The Returners
Description
Old-school vibes, the smell of rain, and a little dust from the bass - all mixed together in rhymes that are free of pretension but full of truth. Each line seems to have been carved with a blade from old asphalt that has been walked on a thousand times - and yet there is still something to say. Here, they don't chase trends, they don't need filters or collaborations - just sound, memory, and a little tired irony towards life, which “nu chi blu,” but still brews like fresh coffee in a smoky kitchen.
The world outside the window is noisy in a new way, but inside, there is the same calm stubbornness: standing your ground, smoking your thoughts, and writing lines that smell not of hype, but of reality.
Lyrics and translation
Original
Salutoreturersi. Ej, ej, ej.
Miłosław i Lemonade Cookies. Gram, choć do padów nie kleją się kciuki.
Zero przewózki ścierą, lecz stylu nie kupisz. Korzenie mam z Tatooine, tego nie kupisz.
Rosłem tu jak dąb Dunin. To dla tych pis to tylko cosplay.
Jak z moim strain czuje klient element supreme jak NTM, jak Ghostface. Oni jak boysband.
Ja do nich w kontrze, kuzyn chuj bite frostback. I tak już turlać wiosna, szumi Morzesów.
Usuwam bitów resztki spomiędzy zębów. Wracam do tamtych ławek, do tamtych dresów.
Nie potrzebuję nowych trendów, nowych kolegów, bo wciąż wolę tu.
Lecę nie na cudesach. Jeden z ostatnich, ale luz. Będę musiał, to pójdę sam.
Hurt detal, później chill w Sudetach. To stilo stąd nie z USA. To WSRH. Hej! I biorę buchły.
I nawet jeśli życie nuci blues, pitą cooking tu jak w kuchni.
Chciałem tylko Ci się w mózg wbić. Na jeden, dwa i na trzy. Jak nie wiesz jeszcze co, to ziom Ci wytłumaczy.
To klasyk. Staroszkolny flavour. Moje złote myśli zapisuję w wave'ach.
Bali rap z gablot, choć nawali mi, wyłączy chwilę. To WSRH, PDG, wszystko w rodzinie.
Jestem czysty, gdyby wrzucili na bęben więcej THC. PP nie szepcze mi "olej stres".
Głęboko w sebie, czy klepniesz pod tym okejkę?
To PDG, trzy litery święte niezmiennie. Od reszty odklejeni, buch popijam pipą.
Chuj bite wam trykot, już mnie nie pytają, po co mi to. To jedna miłość, choć nie Portofino z kogoszywą.
A za tą szybą czewie z dwa pięć pachnie deszczem.
Bazgrzę w mieście, nie gram disco pod remizą. Punkt za punktem lecę, to co wbił mi los to rybor.
Tu gdzie jak śpiewał Turrał po pogrzebie pod korniszon. Daj mi coffee shop. Leci Sypię Non Stop
Syzor. Oczy przymknięte, ale wszystko widzą po horyzont.
To nowy świt, nowy dzień, nuci Nina Simone. I gadka płaska, jakbyś ziemię badał z biskalifą.
Ja robię wyłom. Tutaj jest wlot, tutaj wylot. I biorę buchły.
I nawet jeśli życie nuci blues, pitą cooking tu jak w kuchni. Chciałem tylko Ci się w mózg wbić.
Na jeden, dwa i na trzy. Jak nie wiesz jeszcze co, to ziom Ci wytłumaczy.
To klasyk. Staroszkolny flavour. Moje złote myśli zapisuję w wave'ach.
Bali rap z gablot, choć nawali mi, wyłączy chwilę. To WSRH, PDG, wszystko w rodzinie.
I chap ma kieckę, mówią, że to kilt.
Kiedyś wybuduję dom, bo męczą small talki w windzie. A jeśli cookies, to nie ten do podłogi.
Płyną obłoki hem do ostatniej kropli, typie.
Nosię czarne okulary. Staroszkolny flavour. I skrajesy nie gaszę. PDG, WSRH.
Bali rap z gablot, choć nawali mi, wyłączy chwilę. Selerin. To klasyk.
W roku wyryłem imię.
PDG.
To klasyk.
PDG. To klasyk.
WSRH.
To klasyk. Salutoreturners. I szyka.
English translation
Salutoreturersi. Hey, hey, hey.
Miłosław and Lemonade Cookies. I play, even though my thumbs don't stick to the pads.
They won't cost you any transport, but you can't buy style. My roots are from Tatooine, you can't buy that.
I grew here like the Dunin oak. For these piss it's just cosplay.
As with my strain, the customer feels element supreme like NTM, like Ghostface. They're like a boy band.
I'm against them, cousin bitch frostback. Spring is already here, Morzesów is rustling.
I remove the bits leftover from between the teeth. I go back to those benches, those tracksuits.
I don't need new trends, new friends, because I still prefer it here.
I don't fly on Cudes. One of the last ones, but cool. If I have to, I'll go alone.
Wholesale retail, then chill in the Sudetes. This style is from here, not the USA. This is WSRH. Hey! And I take the bottles.
And even if life hums the blues, they drink cooking here like in the kitchen.
I just wanted to get into your brain. On one, two and three. If you don't know what yet, my friend will explain it to you.
It's a classic. Old school flavour. I write down my golden thoughts in waves.
Bali rap from the showcases, even if it hits me, it will turn off for a while. It's WSRH, PDG, it's all in the family.
I'm in the clear if they put more THC on the drum. PP doesn't whisper to me "no stress".
Deep inside you, will you say okay to this?
These are PDG, three holy letters that remain unchanged. I'm separated from the rest, I drink alcohol with a pipe.
Fuck you, don't worry about your leotard, they don't ask me why I need it anymore. This is one love, although not Portofino with someone else.
And behind this glass, there are about two or five boys smelling of rain.
I scribble in the city, I don't play disco in front of the fire station. I fly point by point, what fate has given me is a fish.
Here, as Turrał sang after the funeral under the gherkin. Give me a coffee shop. I'm sleeping non-stop
Syzor. Eyes are closed, but they can see everything to the horizon.
It's a new dawn, a new day, Nina Simone hums. And flat talk, as if you were examining the earth with a biscaliph.
I'm making a breakthrough. Here is the inlet, here is the outlet. And I take the bottles.
And even if life hums the blues, they drink cooking here like in the kitchen. I just wanted to get into your brain.
On one, two and three. If you don't know what yet, my friend will explain it to you.
It's a classic. Old school flavour. I write down my golden thoughts in waves.
Bali rap from the showcases, even if it hits me, it will turn off for a while. It's WSRH, PDG, it's all in the family.
And chap has a dress, they say it's a kilt.
One day I'll build a house because I'm tired of small talk in the elevator. And if cookies, then not the one for the floor.
Clouds of hem are flowing until the last drop, dude.
I wear black glasses. Old school flavour. And I don't extinguish extremes. PDG, WSRH.
Bali rap from the showcases, even if it hits me, it will turn off for a while. Celery. It's a classic.
I engraved my name in the year.
PDG.
It's a classic.
PDG. It's a classic.
WSRH.
It's a classic. Salutoreturners. And chic.