Run, Vasya, run!
Run, Vasya, run!
Leave no chance for trash.
Run!
Run, Vasya, run!
Run, Vasya, run!
Leave no chance for trash.
You leave the house, leaving the apartment at the burglary, Good in the bag, there is a master key and a crowbar.
At the entrance, two types stick in a coma, You dial, not boil, a phone number.
Across the yard, four hundred horses are waiting there.
Having wrapped a scarf around your face, you walk with a calm step.
Cobblestones are cracking underfoot, You shuffled like a staggered shuttle around the playground.
The frame around is divided into a thousand frames.
It's like Tim Barton himself is behind the camera.
They flew to the ranks - like files from hard.
Time is three nights, the moon is like a lamp.
Ten meters to the wheelbarrow, turned off the signaling.
Calculated route to the road through the arch.
Suddenly from behind you hear hurrying steps, The brain gives a signal: run, Vasya, run.
Run, Vasya, run!
Run, Vasya, run!
Leave no chance for trash.
Run!
Run, Vasya, run!
Run, Vasya, run!
Leave no chance for trash.
On your pocket there is a palette in the range of five articles, And you will not see children for at least five years.
Hey!
Starley is running after you!
It was necessary, athlete, to eat less cutlets.
Come on!
Come on pick up speed, sweat.
If they fuck, the lawyer won't save the literacy.
Hey!
Hey!
Let's tear your claws so that you don't bite your elbows later in the cell.
On the subject do not go in shoes and flip flops, Only on sports crusts.
So that there are no protectors, the low must be erased, Then you will not see the cops and the warrant through the peephole.
Until then, run!
Run!
Run!
The bet is placed on both legs.
There is a high fence in front of you, Vasya, jump.
Now run like Lola or Forest Gump Run, Vasya, run!
Run, Vasya, run!
Leave no chance for trash.
Run!
Run, Vasya, run!
Run, Vasya, run!
Leave no chance for trash.
Run!
Run!
Run!
Run!
Run!
Run!
Run, Vasya, run!