Putin the Gangster
In the shadows of the Kremlin, where the cold winds bite,
A man stands tall, casting fear in the night.
With a poker face, cold as Siberian snow,
He plays the game, where only the strong will grow.
No crown, no throne, but a power supreme,
Behind iron curtains, in the halls of a dream.
He moves like a shadow, with the heart of a king,
A gangster in a suit, pulling every string.
Whispers of deals in the underground glow,
The oligarchs bend low, and the soldiers row.
With a smirk, he decides what’s won and lost,
A chessboard of nations, at any cost.
A deal with the devil? Maybe just a plan,
A mind sharp as knives, but still a man.
He’s Putin the Gangster, in a world of sin,
A man of steel will, yet no soul within.
With a fist wrapped in velvet, and words laced with lies,
He smiles as his empire slowly dies.
For in his eyes, there’s a cold, silent reign,
A gangster’s paradise, built on pain.
Mother Russia, What’s Become of You?
Oh, Mother Russia, what’s become of your pride?
Once strong and defiant, now shackled, denied.
Your sons are at war, your daughters in tears,
Bled dry by a czar who stirs only fears.
Putin, the man who wears power like gold,
Has wrapped you in chains, left you shackled and cold.
You birthed the bold, the proud, and the free—
Now you groan in the grip of a tyrant, can’t you see?
He calls you his mother, his sacred domain,
But under his fist, your spirit is slain.
For every ruble, for every fake smile,
He’ll sell you out, just to stay in style.
The world sees the lies, the mafia mask,
But you, Mother Russia, you never ask.
You let him take your soul, your youth, your voice,
In the name of some “greater good” of his choice.
Putin’s not a king, he’s a gangster in silk,
Selling your future with every wink.
You deserve better than this hollow man,
Yet he still holds the reins, like he’s your master plan.
Oh, Mother Russia, why do you stand still?
Is this really the man you chose to fulfill?
From Tsar to thief, what’s left of your crown?
For Putin’s just a shadow who’ll soon bring you down.
Vladimir Putin – Gangster Rap
(Verse 1)
Yo, it’s Putin on the track, comin’ straight from the cold,
Born in Leningrad, now I’m runnin’ the mold.
I rise to the top, no compromise,
Got the KGB, now I’m seein’ through your eyes.
I’m a shadow in the Kremlin, a king with no crown,
I’m pullin’ all the strings while I tear it down.
Got the oil and the gold, runnin’ the show,
From the east to the west, got the whole world on tow.
They call me a gangster, yeah, I play the part,
Cold like a Russian winter, icy in my heart.
But it’s all about power, stackin’ them chips,
Got the oligarchs hushin’ up when I make my flips.
(Chorus)
Putin the gangster, in the game of control,
From the streets of Moscow, I’m on a roll.
I take what I want, don’t ask no questions,
Buildin’ an empire with no discretion.
(Verse 2)
From the Cold War days, to a man on the rise,
I’m the czar of the modern day, don’t act surprised.
I got the secrets, I hold the cards,
Playin’ chess with nations, you’re dealin’ with scars.
You can call it corruption, you can call it fate,
But I’m makin’ moves, checkmate, checkmate.
Got the world on edge, they can’t break my stride,
I’m the real gangster, call me Putin, worldwide.
(Chorus)
Putin the gangster, in the game of control,
From the streets of Moscow, I’m on a roll.
I take what I want, don’t ask no questions,
Buildin’ an empire with no discretion.
(Outro)
I don’t need a throne, I don’t need a crown,
I just need power, watch me shut it down.
Putin the gangster, and the name’s in the light,
From Russia with love… but I’ll take what’s mine tonight.
Red Son vs. Putin: The Battle for Russia’s Soul
In the land of the mother, where the red flag once flew,
A man stands tall, but his heart is untrue.
Vladimir Putin, with eyes full of schemes,
Has sold the people empty, shattered dreams.
But in the shadows, a force is unseen,
A hero of power, in the Soviet machine.
Red Son, they call him, born of a different creed,
Not in the West, but where the cold winds bleed.
He flies through the skies with the will of the state,
A superman’s strength, but a different fate.
For Russia’s true heart, he will fight and defend,
From the lies of a tyrant who knows no end.
Putin, you’re but a shadow, a thief in the dark,
Hiding behind the Kremlin’s iron arc.
You sell the people’s hopes, you sell their land,
But Red Son stands with justice in hand.
Your empire is built on fear and deceit,
Your power’s a mirage, it won’t taste sweet.
Red Son, the hero, stands for the weak,
For a future that’s free, a future unique.
So, Putin, beware, the wind’s starting to change,
The people are waking, the tides rearrange.
No more lies, no more games, no more pain—
Red Son will lead, and you’ll be chained.
Nadya’s Song of Sorrow
In the cold, where the silence grows,
A heart beats slow, where no one knows.
Nadya stands in the shadows, bound by chains,
Her voice a whisper, but it still remains.
She sang for justice, for the ones who are lost,
Fighting for freedom, no matter the cost.
But the world turned its back, the walls closed in,
And the cries for help felt like they’d never begin.
Behind iron bars, with a broken soul,
The woman who fought, now pays the toll.
The songs she sang, now echo alone,
Her dreams shattered, in a cold stone throne.
She wanted justice, but justice was blind,
In a world that silences those who speak their mind.
Her spirit was strong, but her body was weak,
A prisoner of truth, unable to speak.
The nights are long in the place she’s kept,
Memories of freedom, where her heart once leapt.
Now, in the silence, a sorrow unfurls,
A girl with a dream in a broken world.
Her pain is the price of the truth she told,
A young woman’s fight for the rights she sold.
But the world turned away, like the silence grew loud,
And Nadya, she stands beneath the darkened cloud.
Russian military desertion crisis: 1,000 soldiers unaccounted
1000 years of peace is the dream
Here is a quick Trump Ms. America pimp freestyle:
From the tower to the streets, a polarizing name,
Donald Trump’s in the mix, in the hip-hop game.
Hustler mentality, the art of the deal,
Gold chains and suits, a surreal appeal.
Some see the grind, the rise from the dirt,
Others see the chaos, the people he hurt.
Gangsta rap flips it, both sides collide,
The hustler and villain in the same ride.
Money talks loud, gold ceilings shine,
A figure in the culture, blurred the line.
From Wall Street moves to the block’s raw beat,
The game stays dirty, the vision stays street.
YG screams “FDT,” protest in the sound,
While others spit success, where dreams rebound.
Like a boss or a foe, he’s etched in the bars,
A persona larger than life, love scars.
From the penthouse high to the underground grind,
Gangsta rap keeps him trapped in the mind.
For better or worse, his name won’t fade,
A hustler’s legacy in beats replayed.
Velvet shadows, a masquerade’s glare,
Secrets whispered in the opulent air.
Eyes wide shut, where truth can’t gleam,
A dead beauty queen in a shattered dream.
Masks conceal, yet the soul lays bare,
Power and lust weave a fragile snare.
Her silence speaks of a chilling cost,
In the gilded halls where innocence is lost.
Red lips frozen, a porcelain face,
A haunting figure in a forbidden space.
Was it the dance, the sin, the vow?
Or the lies they swore she’d never allow?
Kubrick’s lens, a cryptic scene,
Truth draped over what might’ve been.
A queen dethroned, her beauty marred,
In the labyrinth of secrets, forever scarred.