She was an exemplary female person, but
Ranoula in dreams What would fuss again and again, her
Given roses, it was her personal fellow.
Nowadays doses on the postures and mother in tears.
For a pussy, she is a trump card, and in frosts, in thunderstorms -
Dook under the duffed boss, like a child with Gamelna.
It's not at all right that the provinity beat her legs, fucking,
And how did our moth wanted, fluttering day in the comatose?
(Fu) Belly without butterflies Fair
And maybe more did not even inserted with fragrant papiots?!
Well, did not give roses, and what? Not in vain the same papika Ros?!
But she is in the pad to frost, from the crack -
Half a year passed, a prostitute 20, a lot of ampoules, and ...
On the floor Redbull, Paul a chair, on the brush a pair of stamps.
She woke up among whores in the ferry, cry and hum,
Ready butterflies to send to Istanbul
Dumping street glossary insects
In the form of butterflies do not go to whom
You thought they only on flowers or drawings but
Deadly streets attribute made long ago
Pulled the knife - so cut, control speech,
Set up the width of your shoulder, so you do not save
You are in the ghetto man ..
Even in the fog, I see Zolto - Kleptoman
And let the visa closed dollars in his pocket.
I am a drug addict - a drug rap, ink - gram, and on him
I am written to publish a bestseller ... you
Let my image be incomprehensible, impaired ... trash
But rated, in a couple of years I will be sovereignt here,
And my route crowd will be held.
On disks, my photo sequid.
But everything started somewhere in the ghetto,
There for a couple of grams -
Dreams of guys are reduced.
Cook you there butterfly, to send to that light
Dumping street glossary insects
In the form of butterflies do not go to whom
You thought they only on flowers or drawings but
Deadly streets attribute made long ago
Doodle and thoughts, from where in the evenings.
Because of the scenes of gray ordness arose.
It is not fair that to me, for what?! It is in my tower.
Feather stop !! Prince scary.
And so already on the shelf from the tips I put my teeth
Well, where are the kuraza? Tell me, alone Miragei.
Promised Where is the oil with caviar from the life of Mrs.?
Rowan, biskor risk and refuse (not sq!)
What if there, in the sky we supposedly wise old grandfather
Destiny all drawings slipped where our lot
Be in pink glasses, with outstretched palm live
And the hands are connected on the seams that would only swim by
Such a warehouse, bitch, all like flour is waiting at the end
And it is unlikely that one who understood me to smoke to bey in the palace
After all, in our time, the soul is more important and the decoration ...
Outcome ???!
Top butterflies are better on the neck.
