[Intro]
This is a piece for all those who LOVE their apartments
Your fucking apartments

[Verse 1]
Who puked your sink and set fire to the carpet?
He poured wine over the walls, I don't think we're talking
Unless we're swallowing, forgive me, my brother must have repaired himself
We see each other and when the tags are washed away
Who's fucking your camera lately?
Will you squeal, cry, make a scandal or do you have it?
Will you pay the brewery or are you hiding?
Speak when you're at ease, we'll come over to your bank, bro
Who fucked your bed with blood?
I do not want to suggest anything to you, I would be short with her
You don't know who you were drinking water with, you talk hard, huh?
Afraid of the naked truth that she's a whore? Bottom
Who fucked up your dishes in the kitchen?
The dealer warned that cruel commodity kills
Let's recreate this atmosphere, you, between us
We like to tiled with plates

[Chorus / Cuts]
Impra to the max
My people came with me
It's a real-life episode
Joints, vodka, gin and tonic in their hands
This is how it is done in Bałuty
[Verse 2]
Who fucked your ass gold out of the bedroom?
He rubbed on her clothes in the wardrobe, you stupid get over it
Here the world teaches us contempt all the time
Then "Baby, forgive me for that puking ceiling"
Who peed in your glass and put it in the fridge?
The same as with the dick was at the neighbor of four
He's not the one who hasn't given you a bubble for whores yet?
I don't think he will pay you back, he got a sled from his buddies
Who fucked you in the bath tub up to your ankles
Apparently, some ass was sleeping in this vomit, you take it easy
You will not deceive yourself, you will doubt, moment of truth, word
Because in that bathtub my friend's ass was sleeping from the next cage
Who made the home theater ashtray?
What, you have a hole in your head, just think, no pressure
This is how you drink, you get drunk, that's how brawls are fought
That on the wall, instead of 50 inches, you have a bracket

[Chorus / Cuts]
Impra to the max
My people came with me
It's a real-life episode
Joints, vodka, gin and tonic in their hands
This is how it is done in Bałuty

[Verse 3]
To measure the bit thickness you have to give me a GPS
Big Brothers man, I don't have a door handle like a dog
A few seconds is not enough, it destroys the fear of who did what
Who fucked up the TV and who puked the floors?
Who fucked you such a jope on the table? Tell me
And what, you don't want to explain it with a kick on your head?
A professional host, he knows the idea, the patent
To leave a fucking crater on the table
Who Fucked You In Spider-Man's House In The Mirrors?
And I don't give a shit about that, no problem, I'm at ease
The estate knows you, you probably already know about the perpetrator
You're a drunk Cossack, no need to ask, bream
Who wrote you on the door: "Shut your ass, sucker!"
The same what your computer and tower fucked up
You are dead, I believe reality doesn't lie
Your problem, party and your apartment