I remember August, gray Brabus.
Someone got divorced and divorced, fuck in the an * s.
Ficus in the bathroom, bite, dumb deer.
One fucking crap, pumped a hundred fucking.
Don’t listen to my album, fuck you this rap?
You buy this disc, but cut it down later.
I stood on the show-offs as if on hinges.
Snotty garbage you will not find, we are hiding in trouser legs.
Then the flaw will undermine, you will tear my outfit.
And I bought a cayenne, right now I’ll come, count it.
C'mon, throw all the jokes, what the fuck * porshe.
X * evo hands from w * xp, and legs from ears.
You do not shake us, hear the garbage, I will not sign.
The king is alive, fucking, but the buffoon died.
I swear that I will be the best husband.
Would you swear that you would become my wife?
Someone was earlier, oh well fuck.
He was a sucker, right? And I shake the crowds.
I would not know where the stop is and without your foot.
I swung all summer under the Slima Centrope.
And so on and so forth I am you, you are me.
This is about n * healthy 92 days.
And then a draft knocks autumn through the windows.
I was a fan of silence, and plastic from the bottom.
I'm not alone, ha, and you are not alone.
I'm like a husband, and you're like a wife.
I decided to quietly leave the music.
And someone immediately rolled his lip.
And how are you boo boo there, I muddied the album.
Come to the studio, we took vinyl with the guys.
I saw these fools, they wanted all my rap.
And they offered themselves to me, fuck how many years.
I’m writing a verse here and thanks to the center.
I didn’t finish anything, but I threw out the sampler.
I was clothed by a sekind, and you were stripped.
Fill yourself in the Pusi area with the inscription "in a week".
I won’t tell anyone who you took in your mouth.
There is depth in the cold, an empty room.
I would give a face to all who you were touched.
I would tell, but we need to live on.
Fuck * l am friends with all your friends.
I saw you somewhere with someone, it wasn’t you.
Count, instead of drug * ticks, I'll buy you flowers.
You’re not piss, I didn’t tell anyone.
Why did you ask you not to tell anyone?
He wanted to kill the huckster because he had fucked him up.
I asked, fucking, not to put those pictures of "Nude."
You asked me not to smoke, and I pulled out a second one.
I would choose you, between you and the grass.
Oh my god, it's for you fucked 92 days.
