Chorus:
Everyone has their own jokes, from smoking to an injection.
And I write rap, inserts smoke, water and cola.
Darkness, chalk, soap, powder, oils.
Dick you would listen to me if it weren’t for Vista.
1) Verse:
Dick you would listen to me right now, if Arman.
In paddy did not study the plan, a couple of programs.
A couple of grams, all the banks, by bits.
I'm driving salaam, give me a minus, I write the text myself.
You see my eyes, you see it goes out.
It becomes dangerous, red pressure on the mass.
I’ll flood in kzhbi, I’m driving them into the partisan.
On the military commissar is not so often, but it sometimes hangs.
I don’t go to clubs, until Monday I will smoke.
I’m not sure yet, a drop on meren.
In garages I breathed adhesives, and gasoline.
Boiled milk, and dripped vizin.
Oooo fucking go home far away.
Mom is not at home, but Zina’s neighbor pallets.
I am destroying sushi at the store.
Kolo in the throat shit does not climb, stretches like rubber.
This is the end of winter, two thousand and thirteen.
They didn’t give a damn about themselves to guys.
Or maybe paranoia, in the evenings I do not whine.
When I write the text, it’s true from a white sheet.