Hey Hey!
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What! |
What! |
What!
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Rushing pack under canigum with cola,
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Create a reason for Daria Dontsova.
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The city sleeps, but gives us a word,
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And the music will become the dance floor.
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Rushing pack under canigum with cola,
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Create a reason for Daria Dontsova.
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The city sleeps, but gives us a word,
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And the music will become the dance floor.
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I would drag Prada instead of the devil,
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But it is hardly justified in the pits of the household quarter.
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Let the laveha keep spinning,
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Plus, the flat will read to us until the morning, as if together.
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Street, lamp and pharmacy on Nevsky;
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The street slept until dawn with stories;
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Rap into a rolled echo from tin!
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This hip hop is like
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New GTA on other computers.
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As if someone uninvited entered the portal
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From another world and continues to live, as there.
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Roar, baby!
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No maximum speed in the ghetto.
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The game itself can take an arsenal
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And play with someone, lose with someone.
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Comprende, I don't give a fuck what's in trend
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I'm running through the haze under the money
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Even if I'm on a bad trip,
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Even in a Bentley, like Kendrick.
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You are boiling on the side!
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You will give out a rag for a thing.
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No, you will betray people anyway,
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What will not fit into handfuls.
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I come to the party, as if to the post office -
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There are so many stamps and bags of everything
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What if you sell it, you get a three-ruble note,
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In the center or on a windbreaker from Cent.
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I'm bad at grading
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But I keep the underground syllable,
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And who sat down here with us
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Will forever unravel the earth.
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Ashes to ashes, sample to sample.
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Intrigue rings in the windows
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Look, he is silent like a fish
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Wait, don't call, at 103, man
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It's just an overdose of cypitril
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Intrigue rings in the windows.
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Look, he is silent like a fish.
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Wait, don't call, at 103, man -
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This is just an overdose of cypitril.
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Rushing pack under canigum with cola,
|
Create a reason for Daria Dontsova.
|
The city sleeps, but gives us a word,
|
And the music will become the dance floor.
|
Rushing pack under canigum with cola,
|
Create a reason for Daria Dontsova.
|
The city sleeps, but gives us a word,
|
And the music will become the dance floor.
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Dance, dance, dance, dancefloor, bitch!
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Dance, dance, dance, dancefloor, bitch! |