Donatan - Z dziada-pradziada feat. Trzeci Wymiar

1. [Nullo]
It all started with a sword and will die by a sword,
In a land of amber glades, in the eagle's wings' shadow.
We are descendants of pagans and though we know God's name by now,
In my veins flows the Oder, through the emblem I'm a Slav.
Our troops march on, holy Silesian mountain before us.
We go hooded through the woods, we're not out of brave spirit.
One imperishable skin, unlike snakeskin.
It's the Slavic nature that taught us to win.
Over millennia they tried to cut us down like trees,
Leave the country without the scepter and towns without us.
They wanted to burn the hamlets, castles, towns down,
But they didn't have the will to fight and had to give us our name back.
Poland, rise from partitions and numerous humiliations.
In 1945 the dream came true, say it with pride that
When they cut down the Slavic tree, a new one will grow by tomorrow.
For if they want to destroy us, they would have to cut the root first.

Chorus x2
It's the lute sound, the heavy walk from our Walmbrich hills.
Vistula miracle, a swift stream up to the Baltic waters.
It's everyone's fertile soil of our Warmian fields.
From great-grandfathers' forefathers to grandfathers' grandsires - the Slavic lineage.

2. [Pores]
Hi there, Lechites, send calls like you're mad.
Tomorrow we're off to the Sich to hunt some venery.
So tonight no one's counting the green, there's a rave.
Noise is squeaking, Polans are here, it's poured, we're roasting a ram.
Glasses up, with honey and rum, cattle on tube,
We like them young, red, black, fair, fat like Rubens.
Cup under tap, a string, a holster we'll give you, here take it
It's like you with your buddy, your cousin's uncle.
Tell us, who hosts the guests like us, even at a wake.
Who has this much jealousy and pride (We do!)
Always eager to fight and to keg,
Whether we don a robe, zhupan or a suit.
So feel welcomed, Sarmatians, renegades and comrades,
Greet your kids, wives, brothers, mothers from our lineage.
These cottages, hamlets, woods, no cattle here, satisfy your eyes.
Now I finish it like a Slav, for I don't know who's paying tonight - woah.

Chorus x2
It's the lute sound, the heavy walk from our Walmbrich hills.
Vistula miracle, a swift stream up to the Baltic waters.
It's everyone's fertile soil of our Warmian fields.
From great-grandfathers' forefathers to grandfathers' grandsires - the Slavic lineage.

3. [Szad]
Supposedly the one who rules the world, once called upon us.
From over the valleys, hills, woods, swamps the people followed the trail,
In order to build the Babel, so he could give us the alphabeth.
Probably the sly devil fucked up the theme.
It's almost certain that surely today it's concrete, then it was wood.
Then it was heaven, today it's hell, today it's euro, then it was silver.
It used to be one tribe, deep rooted in the ground.
Take the flow to the old age, the fact we have it means a lot
And it's not a coincidence, step into the land of the winds.
Whity, I have a series of facts here, come and watch them like a movie scene.
The tribe that runs like gnu, that drinks for two,
Cherishes the sacrum sphere, and devils' shadows come behind us.
A to the R to the O to the B to the A to the T is here,
What, you know him from posters? He's square fucked up.
That one's from the psychopathic species. Call me Cyril, child of signs,
Rap pundit by nature, don't touch the exhibition.

Chorus x2
It's the lute sound, the heavy walk from our Walmbrich hills.
Vistula miracle, a swift stream up to the Baltic waters.
It's everyone's fertile soil of our Warmian fields.
From great-grandfathers' forefathers to grandfathers' grandsires - the Slavic lineage.