| You won't believe it, but I love you is not the right word,
|
| But I love it more when the tongue f*cks hard against the sky.
|
| Minting rhyme seals break,
|
| In a normal digging room, cops can turn up.
|
| In this system, if not on the neck, then on the elbow,
|
| You can burr, heck, break your legs at the very least.
|
| But only we have San Naki.
|
| The loki-currents say that Jesus floats down the river on a pie.
|
| You can watch Good Hash, but don't you dare touch it.
|
| Knowledge from below encrypted in hieroglyphs,
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| Goritsiev, which means that the spirit of my guys is uplifted.
|
| Plus the dumbest of the underworld itself.
|
| It is more convenient not to ask questions to live like this,
|
| Eat your own kind, turning this image into an appearance.
|
| Repost the group public grinding the rug with the mouse,
|
| A poet becomes shit when he stops being hungry.
|
| Without ulterior motives, the best is pure,
|
| It won’t be long before such a gift is given to ministers.
|
| Masters, understand where you landed,
|
| This addiction is never show business.
|
| Masterpieces are clear to everyone without your prisms.
|
| My mind is clear and music is eternal
|
| Good Hash weighs heavily on your shoulders.
|
| Tonight we will accustom you to one speech,
|
| Bitterness tastes like a tornado.
|
| Chronicle, reading to lie down like a human,
|
| And you better lie down.
|
| I went completely underground
|
| As once the river Sinichka.
|
| It dawned on the zenith of chronic rhinitis,
|
| Someday this will all work.
|
| Time to fix what it's all about page by page,
|
| Penetrate for a moment that even getting wet to the skin.
|
| You can stay in your face and not cross the border,
|
| The main thing is not to let hunger be satisfied.
|
| As old Stephen used to say to his velvet,
|
| Granite - underground sciences,
|
| From the streets of the capital, it spreads evenly throughout the provinces.
|
| Good Hash your brothers don't have to be a seer
|
| To see that we have gathered again in a coalition.
|
| Three dots keeps you in a tight circle.
|
| You are at gunpoint even in the center of the crowd at a concert.
|
| Our recipient is attached to you until death,
|
| But where the elephant passed, be sure - the firmament is under your feet! |