From his youth, hot -tempered
Who is closely neat with a match
Such a point, but turned it for his own
With a broken hat he smiled at his native
Clung to the tongue like a scalpel on the bone
Grayed teeth to the district
My house is western block, at thirty casual black
The attic flew, 4:20 o'Clock, give me a package
Squeezed out a couple of lines, tortured snow on the bitch
On a general balcony, in the moonlight, Stap was checked
In the stalls of make -up stalls of hard workers and homeless
I absorbed the city, he chewed my detachment and spit out hunger
"It was and it was" like that of Smoki, having stuffed it - you will heal
For their boons, applying microcroping
Firework!
This is a full fucked
What is the plan and business
Pickers surviving in panic
True, in what right is Bishe, the right of the bice
This is a full fucked
What is the plan and business
Pickers surviving in panic
True, in what right is Bishe, the right of the bice
And again in the stall we are a race
Tomorrow the gong hits the start
Your task is to bite into the throat
This is the only way, otherwise you go on the side
Forced to survive like that, although
You are modeling a system, but in which there is no goal
To please you, but still ticks the time
Idleness of unscrupulous people
That dull the euphoria burning
Wealth without a goal
Diamonds of tsatski do not warm the soul
Why, your world is adhere
In a family where six children
There will be more fun of joy, my opinion
Start dancing, dance in a seizure
Against the backdrop of grandmas, as if the mind is not in order
A miserable picture, what other motives are needed here
To think about, poor in the background, hardly
This is a full fucked
What is the plan and business
Pickers surviving in panic
True, in what right is Bishe, the right of the bice
This is a full fucked
What is the plan and business
Pickers surviving in panic
True, in what right is Bishe, the right of the bice
