Epu - Ostari [15240] (Feat. Lil-Oogee & Splif-J) *MUSIIKKIVIDEO*

‼️This video is NOT promoting seen activities, products or behaviour. This video is all about entertainment and cautions about modern problems with youth. Everyone seen on the video is 18+ Years old. All seen material is legal or scripted‼️
Instrument: ​⁠‪@blueatlantabeats1135‬
Mixing: Epu
Mastering: Epu
Video: Epu
Budget: Bisset ja Viunat
Yhteydenotot/ Contact me: www.instagram....
❤️Special thanks: ​⁠‪@blueatlantabeats1135‬ ,
Lil-Oogee, Splif-J, Frode, Mane, Sakke, Zeremi, Pajari, Jonttu, Jonne, Turunen.❤️
English subtitles:
Gram of sa*iva in a bag. we need some light here.
Here, the choices are slim because there’s no choice for grocery store.
These stories are about educating, not complaining, the quality of life is at its lowest level.
Things in Mukkula always sink into the sh*t hole.
Near the woods, my fingers freeze while watching the fire.
On the balcony a yield of weed. I protect on my life not to accidentally breaking the cups on the balcony.
One pill from the plug.
The happiest country in the world because of Mukkula.
Few of Mukkula’s kids are sleeping, some quick changes we have Mukkula’s laws.
This drip is mall center stuff, these fixes come from behind the mall, bring back the old mall again, yeah few times our mall has burned down to ashes.
[Hook] Mukkula hood boys, they’re the mall’s homeboys.
NoNo, you can’t copy them.
They don’t get tired, someone here motivates them.
15240 man.
Malls are multifunctional stores.
Around here, it’s all about domination.
Hoodboys always ready to do real business.
15240 man.
This is the place where you’re born and where you die.No clowns here, just goats of this genre.Here, w*ed and sticks burn.We keep it real, unlike today's young folks, ah.
Hands up if you remember Mukkula Food,They stole my brother's backpack and his phone too. We got it back and sparked up again,That we dared to already call a can*abis joint.
We were at the skate park making it out territory.Tagging walls and drinking 20 beers.Removing ga*ja from Pilkkari street.These are stories I still want to remember at the old days.
Yeah, the beer keeps a man on the right path,Cops ask questions, but I haven’t sold anything.Ask me more about Pilkkarit streets.Ha! I won’t tell you anything, ah.
[Hook]
What do you know about it, just macaroni for dinner, I’m missing just the macaroni.
Full pack of beer and a bottle of Listerine, that’s called Mukkula Marathon.
Weekly money went on candy at the pharmacy, your kids won’t settle for less than diamonds, our kids burn the j*nk, you have nice yard games, you have money, we made a heist at the Siwa with a Tractor.
No yard, no wife, no dog, no kids, no property, last burning in the b*ngs.
No luxury, Mukkula street thugs’ life goal is to live in the Ritatorni apartments.
What we got, we have to settle for, while others are already resting in their gr*ves.
It was supposed to be on the sandbox, but we were out with the homie blazing some sku*k, damn, shoutout to Helin.
[Hook]
We come from a place where poverty affects everyone.
Socks spinning on the feet like chemicals in the body.
Dru*s change hands, j*nkies lie in the ditch.
Come by the hood, I can show you a round around.
Ha! What are you looking at, you f*cking Goofy?
You know yourself, there’s no tobacco mixed here.
Even if you do dope, it doesn’t make you a gangster.
Oh, you don’t have money? Well, let’s be in contact in a month.
Prime w*ed we grinded with scissors. Last money was spent at the ABC’s slot machines.
Take it easy, you don’t want no problems.
Rhymes drop every time like the producers touched it.
Bags are swapped to cash get even with cops on high surveillance.
At the shopping mall, it’s always about the supply and demand.
Your opinions don’t really matter at all.
This is real rap, not some glazing on my own Ego.
[Hook]
Marry me if you know where Marry Dian is, my mom always told me not to leave the yard, many love and many hate, cops run away from us, not us from the police.
Leaning forward tho life won’t go the same way, if the recipe says swallow it, they inject it into your veins. Who to trust we don’t if we’ll make it to tomorrow, at least something good comes from Southern Finland.
The middle class smells like spirits and lager.
Lagging on k*sh coma, laying on the ground totally wasted.
Rolling up a hangover jo*nts in the Rizzla papers.
The local plug deals that stuff in the **** market.
Dripped out in Vans and chinos, I’ll never swap them, wearing am**tamin glasses, flannel shirt, fast gas borrowed from a friend, we’ll see the Agent in heaven.
[Hook]