Posts from Sacred Haven of Debauchery

P.S. American rap is a different story. I respect Snoop, Jay-Z, Ja Rule, and some others.

It's as if you understand what they're rapping about regarding their West Coast, East Coast, and Straight Outta Compton.

I disagree. Heroes of Might and Magic is good, but I prefer this one.

I just realized that I only liked villains wearing black cloaks (some of them), not counting Schredder, of course. But I did like the song from Chip 'n Dale.

It's like you don't understand what they're reading about their West Coast, East Coast, straight from Compton.

I understand, and I understand their pure soul in black bodies.

At least they discuss social problems, racism, and everything else. But our rappers are just underdeveloped thugs who, for some reason, switched to hip-hop.

not counting Shreder, of course

Hey, he's my favorite villain, Arko, you're a good guy here))))

Yes, Zigzag managed to be everywhere.

No, they read about glitches, dragons, and the joys of driving a lowrider through a black neighborhood.

I understand, and I understand their pure soul in black bodies.
At least they discuss social problems, racism, and everything else.

Yeah. Then our rappers discuss social problems – the lack of proper upbringing, drug addiction, and everything else.

Ple-sen woke up in the city library early in the morning, still clutching copies of ancient scrolls. This time, they told the story of Imaris, the Moon Wolf.
“According to legend, long ago, there lived a young man in these lands who had great difficulty getting along with others, constantly wavered between goals, didn't know his place in life, and had a weak will. One day, he met a guy who, as it seemed to him, started stalking him. Imaris, running out of the yard, cautiously looked around, and there he was, doing push-ups and watching him. 'He's finally waiting for me!' Imaris thought. The guy wiped his hands with a towel and slowly moved towards Imaris. He got scared and ran back home, and the guy started doing push-ups. Unexpectedly, Imaris realized that he had the whole day ahead of him, and he knew that his refrigerator was empty and he had nothing to eat! 'He'll be waiting...' – these thoughts wouldn't leave him.
Imaris curled up and began to think, 'Think, Imaris, think!' He tried to remember what he knew about this maniac. From overheard conversations, he remembered that his name was 'Morning.' 'What could that mean? What a strange name? Could it be...' Imaris tensed up as much as he could. 'Yes, that's it! If his name is 'Morning,' then I can safely leave the house at night!' In the evening, Imaris gathered all his belongings, the remnants of spice, and ran away from home. His plan worked! The guy wasn't there at night! He wasn't doing pull-ups or push-ups as usual, which meant that everything was as he thought – this guy sleeps at night!
He wandered for a long time through the dark forest until he got completely lost. Later, he would befriend the local wolves, defend his territory with them, court the female wolves, attend cooperative howling-at-the-moon sessions, and in a couple of years, he would turn into a werewolf every full moon.”
“What nonsense!” – Ple-sen sighed desperately – “The teachers at the academy are probably just messing around.”
He put the scrolls back in their place and went for a walk. The library was located outside the city, in a designated area where there was silence, helping to concentrate on studying books and scrolls. As he walked towards the city, he met his red-haired acquaintance, Ling. The mage, for some unknown purpose, was creating a ball of fire in his hands and then throwing it at a stone structure.
“What are you doing?” – Ple-sen asked in surprise – “And so early in the morning?”
“I'm perfecting my mastery of elemental magic, in this case, fire!” – Ling created another ball of magical energy and threw it again – “Yesterday, I visited the library and found an interesting training method in the ancient scrolls! It says that the more a mage casts the same spells of a certain school, the better the effect!” – Ple-sen put his hand to his face. – “And where are you going?”
“I need to write an article about Imaris, the Moon Wolf, for the academy, so I'm going to visit the part of the forest where he supposedly lived. But the way, in any case, lies through the city.

No, they read about bitches, drugs, and the thrill of driving a lowrider through a black neighborhood.

It's clear you're not familiar with old-school hip-hop, like Public Enemy.

Then our rappers discuss social problems – the lack of proper upbringing, drug addiction, and so on.

These are just their invented "problems." And what they copy from the West doesn't really count.

It's clear that you're not familiar with old-school games, like Public Enemy.

It's clear that you're not familiar with old-school games, like Bad Balance.

You simply don't understand Russian rap. You lack a certain spark that allows you to grasp what Russian rap is all about. Russian rap is about confession, expressing oneself in any way possible, and even in seemingly nonsensical songs, there's a meaning that needs to be discovered!

Yes, indeed.

In most cases, rap expresses feelings. For example, in my game featuring collaborations with Basta and Guf, here are a few lines:

Serious intentions, racing speeds, mom with questions:
- Where did you put your conscience? Become an adult.

I remained silent guiltily in response
- Look at your brother, isn't it hard to be normal?
They won't understand me, they won't change me
They wanted to break me - they won't catch me.

What is my fault?
I thought about running away from here, slamming doors angrily -
Offense is a nasty thing
Mom was breaking dishes and quietly crying
She was praying for me to God - she was lighting candles.

These are Basta's feelings. No one could understand him; his mother compared him to his brother, but he was just as...

Memories, it doesn't hurt as much anymore
Listening to our tracks, looking at old photos
Years pass, I'm twenty-seven
Just like you were back then, bro, peace to everyone
You were older, you taught me about life
Mistakes, chances, thank you for everything
Twenty people under the pier, their guy
I'm to blame, let's get this going, little one, don't worry
You said everything is in our hands
Believe in people, but trust only a few
Remember your mom, because only she
Will always believe in you
Play the roles that suit you,
Choose for yourself where to go and don't back down
And no matter what happens, remember one thing
I will always be there for you

Basta's brother died in 2006. This song fully expresses his feelings, telling how good things used to be.

Ice, ice ice baby, I will love you,
Even when I'm in heaven,
But for now, I'm here, and I'm in rap
And I love you, you hear, ice baby

This is Guf's song about his love for his wife. There's nothing more to say.

Besides just rap, there's rap that tells stories about events; there's no rap - it's just a stupid product of drugs; and there's gangster rap - a brazen tale of a scumbag about his scumbag life, a lack of weed, vodka, cigarettes, etc.

These are just their made-up "problems."

Why are they made-up? In my opinion, that's exactly what they are.

These are just their made-up "problems."

It's no less real than racism.