| Your sun has set... Hey... From the dungeon...
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| It's so fucked up after sunset. |
| Who rolled cotton wool
|
| They left the huts, set fire to the blunts.
|
| Someone in quality shines with patches, someone smokes,
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| Someone repeats my verse with their heads in a swing.
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| Balloon types tag walls.
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| The fat cat will not catch up, the shift will fall without prisoners.
|
| Here the homeless sew change for days on vodka.
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| The boys will stir up the amount of their own at the mercy of the night.
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| They want to see us as slaves of the system
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| Words fly, beat and bass, and darkness everywhere.
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| A world without borders, looking down.
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| A tedious life, they didn’t issue a visa to another ...
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| Here they do not like when the ass is licked,
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| The cop is not called by the fatherland, such
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| The lamps hang on the poles for a reason.
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| We are moving normally until the sixties ...
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| Look out the window, don't look at the TV
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| Everything is different there, at night life is fucked up.
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| This is not a movie, stop your whims.
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| You are up today, and down the route tomorrow...
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| The sky curtained barefoot and naked
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| Serezhas with Isadores, podsovye monitors on the "Shtor"
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| He drinks water from the water Manul, and the floor is not covered
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| Cosipores have not lasted to this day
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| Who asks for gunpowder in his beard catches and sleeps
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| Ashes are knocked down on his head, let him not pizdit
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| Break the springs bit, pour laughter
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| Lohobits who infuriate everyone - infuriate everyone
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| This is not a movie, I see snow from the bottom up
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| Fanatics are supplied from the assembly line in small wholesale
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| From the kitchen breathes tart, black
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| The world is a little more cruel
|
| When the yolk rolls over the horizon
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| Water burli from a bong, the room is light without current
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| Can hammer and not fatal at all, but not so much
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| This is a table, or a rack, cola and swill
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| At night I'm hearty, in the morning it hurts me |