Жабинка-Гродно (Zhabinka-Grodno) (English Translation) Lyrics

[Intro: Maybi Baby]
Yeah…

[Verse 1: Maybi Baby & paznyaks]
Maybe, I’m a mama, but I didn’t give birth; I’m draped in Belarusian svaga.
Alright, I’m not talking about Bulba, but I did kill once (One time).
All my opps are going crazy, starting to dig their own graves.
They remind me of a drunk father on the beach in Anapa.

Zhabinka-Grodno, streets with kazik, that’s where we hang with Pazyak.
You dumped your demos from a basin, now we’re hanging out with a basin. (Yeah)
Tracks on Tidal, I’ve got a rider, like I’m an idol; ‘Two Zero Seven’ is my Skyfall.
“How do you do it?” – I do it with pure pleasure.

I don’t want hype, I just want to cry alone to One Direction’s hits.
A glossy girl, but I come down to bring the action to the underground.
Ah, big up, don’t get it twisted, Maybi ain’t Vika.
I rap like I’m black, but Maybi ain’t a nigga; teenagers love Maybi like they love Nyamiha.

I perform without a check, but I don’t perform without a check – that’s the honest truth.
I emptied a virgin card when I bought out the entire wine list.
This girl ain’t made by a finger, even if my dad’s not from Nepal.
Don’t talk to me about what kind of gangsta you are – I can shut that talk down like I’m closing a drawer. (Maybi)

[Verse 2: paznyaks]
I entered the game, entered the perk cheat code.
A hundred points ahead, thanks for that.
Now I can level up any number of branches. (Ay)

Indigo, magenta – everything looks violet to me.
Since childhood, I’ve arranged everything by color.
An artist must be well-fed.
Rappers dance to the rhyme’s tune.
My flow is a paint-by-numbers.
And every one of my lines is like a herbarium. (What?)
I find something beautiful, twist it a little, then carefully place it on the page. (Ay)

Shoutout to all our folks who want to earn some cash.
Red and big, like a London double-decker.
Or a barn on a farmer’s land.
So the ladies of their future Jeeps have enough space. (A garage)
As the legends say: “Fake it till you make it.”
If anything, I’m a jock.
I lost count of their repetitions in ru-rap.
Too easy of an approach. (You should train)

And I unexpectedly sprouted in your very field.
Something like a sunflower. (A little flower)
Doesn’t look like much, but if you crack it open, there’s a lot of good stuff inside. (Hey)
You like guys with a lisp, and I invited you for a walk.
But it didn’t work out… well, let’s keep it clean.
Kali laska, prabachtsye for my French.
Sauce from Belarus, straight up like machanka.
Desks are rocking from Grodno to Zhabinka.
Maybi-Paznyaks, the formula is simple.
The sound made you move; it’s all in the dynamics.

[Chorus: Maybi Baby]
Getting up and counting my finances – that’s just my ordinary day.
A broker, a bodyguard, an accountant – that’s just my ordinary gang.
Tons of bars in double-rhymes – that’s just my ordinary track.
That’s Bel-swagger, baby.