It is our nature and society
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Let a child be born, but let it be a man
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Let him be a man
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We find a countryman who has succeeded in something in life
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But we praise him only when his chest fell to the ground
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We are the best to ourselves, the heart feels it
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We are almost like ballots
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We listen to the advice of hodja, popa and prote
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Well, we punch children because tires are a sin
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The fans embarrass us as soon as they see each other
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Fig behind our backs as we extend our hand
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A little like this and a little like that, ah
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Maybe it's fair if it doesn't work out
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A foreigner would come to spend money, buy something, at least
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If he doesn't come next year, he will pay the same price
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There are too many pensioners, and the budget is a coma
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But ask anyone to retire right away, yes
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He can come up with something, for the commission to sign it
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He would leave the company immediately, his dick was full more
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They would sell everything, but to remain ours, yes
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Others manage it, well, that doesn't suit us either
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We tear glasses in joy and bottles in
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We break the head of the one we drink with
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We scream, we go wild, naked when we score
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God and homeland is all we have
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Beautiful body, oh, little baby
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Nature is beautiful, but fucked up society
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It is our nature and society
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Let a child be born, but let it be a man
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Let him be a man
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We go to courses, read books
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To grow into higher beings without any worries
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It is not easy to listen to someone else's torment, run away from it!
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We don't know how to help ourselves, God help us!
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Others are always to blame, it is never us
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We burn the brain only when we are stuck
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We are happy to complain, the Balkans are to blame for everything
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Those who were worth some dick were running outside
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We suffer and swallow, and everyone lives in fear
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It remained from the South where they weighed the word each
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In our words, we appreciate the work
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So let’s put together a long weekend while we catch the shade
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Imagine, we do not see, and our eyes are healthy
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We proudly hug athletes in five minutes of glory
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We agree like brothers every two years
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When 11 mercenaries run out onto the lawns
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We shine on the outside, everything is desolate on the inside
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I guess that's our nature and society
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We shine on the outside, everything is desolate on the inside
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That is probably our nature and society
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We look for prophets in the clouds, but we do not see a finger in front of our noses
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And then we err in our steps, we tread on the thorns barefoot
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They wouldn't recognize the best thing, not even to pass by slowly
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We shine on the outside, everything is desolate on the inside |