I turned off my mobile, turned on my thoughts
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Garbage is not a doctor but skillfully treated
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He promised me for no reason
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In distant places correctional chill
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We go to red on a black carriage
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Something shines for us, but the sun does not shine
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In the tank, pockets and head the wind
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Good luck with us, but it's a pity that in credit
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By pressing the trigger, you can snatch the term
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And not pressing a hundred carnations and a wreath
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And it's better to let a monologue about me
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Read not close with tears, and Irina Volk
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Not an indicator when all inclusive
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Everything turns off the holes in the belly
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Why do we carry armor in the trunk?
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The answer is simple, those who are in the know understand
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With your own with the rest of steel
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Hear this howl it's hundreds of flocks
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You can go along, you can go far
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choose
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There our boys are not allowed to block
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And in any case, the Glock is extinguished in the stash
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And if I suddenly become the one who could
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I will produce smoke in Bali
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To the evil of all these sons on style
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To all the offenders on the ksivs that were cowardly in childhood
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For evil, just so that they don’t even think
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We're grabbing you without even thinking
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It was shaking there so that tomorrow might not be
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And you would definitely pass first
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And if one of ours could pass
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It's just nerves
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And if a major Russian tourist comes up
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Ask what time is the Balinese stoner
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I will answer seven o clock
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Call an ambulance daddy's son
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With your own with the rest of steel
|
Hear this howl it's hundreds of flocks
|
You can go along, you can go far
|
choose |