How many grams burned in the body
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How many secret chats were in Telegram
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House warrior, stick your ass on the sofa
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The world is so arranged: everyone will be rewarded according to their deeds
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“Oleg, where are your songs? |
Where did you disappear to?
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Where is the tour of cities and towns, hype and fierce cash? |
—
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While you were dying for reposts, likes and metal
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I took a private flight like Lil Bow Wow
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Fuck me, a boy from the village?
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I like a plain, like a sheer cliff
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To me that horse meat, that tequila - from the throat
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If only it was lucky, and all these bodies were swinging
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Live life on your own like Ginger Baker
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It seems I fucked up a fat banger again
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I really remember the last five years,
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But I was neither a opportunist nor a fake
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Middle finger up, two fingers on the pavement
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Today I am Hash Tag, tomorrow Scobarry White
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Under the laughter of hyenas, I left my dear pride
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After all, they loved the hair dryer so much through Parliament Light
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Inspired by the smell of St. Petersburg swamps
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Quietly release an album a year
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Didn't clog up the face, and didn't color the bangs
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Didn't take yours, didn't fuck your chick
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Uncle (Fumbling, uncle?)
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And we rose from the bottom, and we will easily return there again
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Prankster-fate, I gently hold her by the strand
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Let the country hear, because there is still something to say
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Are you kidding, uncle? |