On the right is a Haoma brick, on the left is a Sprite
|
A couple of scum drink up what I poured
|
Heals a couple of fatty ones, poisons a couple of fatty ones
|
A shot without a misfire brings down the fuckers
|
Where they smoke speck, a degree flies after
|
Brothers fly into rams like Brabus
|
Look - they're shaking, look - they're shaking
|
Bitch with a fright 102 is gaining
|
And they can only really
|
I disappear here and there and not even for days
|
To everyone who is hungry, and with whom we did not sing
|
There are prostitutes here, but we didn't film
|
Wanted, but did not take out
|
Sweated, but didn't get out... even on the backstage
|
There will be only a lighthouse, and no meetings
|
No game, no candles
|
And we can only really
|
The taste of victory - on average
|
All of them at once gone somewhere, but
|
Ate - ate, pleasant (Heard?)
|
We don't need to talk
|
Who's the first (first, right?)
|
And let the screams muffle our voices
|
While we're on stage (Hey, what's wrong with that?)
|
After all, we can only really
|
The taste of victory - on average
|
All of them at once gone somewhere, but
|
Ate - ate, pleasant (Heard?)
|
We don't need to talk
|
Who's the first (first, right?)
|
And let the screams muffle our voices
|
While we're on stage (Hey, what's wrong with that?)
|
In the right is a mobile phone, in the left is a smoldering joint
|
While at the wheel of the Batmobile, a native draws an engine
|
Some of our affairs rested in peace in me
|
And, if Che, the grave, when the cop lays the left bazaar
|
I'm in black like night in 200
|
Any night like Saturday night
|
We smoke rubbish, we don't spoil heifers
|
Call this trap big work (work)
|
Fuck them fame, I'm in the district (district)
|
Just like ten years ago (back)
|
I'm not a star, someone lied to you
|
I hide an arsenal in cars (Do you know?)
|
Well, what do you know about my life?
|
Surprise, this is surprise, motherfuck it
|
Putting that she is capricious
|
And don't ice, or don't suit - fuck her
|
Where we just didn't hang
|
One dirt and bitches like a radio
|
One link is more than five zeros
|
Surprise and you are no longer with her
|
It's the only way really
|
The taste of victory - on average
|
All of them at once gone somewhere, but
|
Ate - ate, pleasant (Heard?)
|
We don't need to talk
|
Who's the first (first, right?)
|
And let the screams muffle our voices
|
While we're on stage (Hey, what's wrong with that?)
|
After all, we can only really
|
The taste of victory - on average
|
All of them at once gone somewhere, but
|
Ate - ate, pleasant (Heard?)
|
We don't need to talk
|
Who's the first (first, right?)
|
And let the screams muffle our voices
|
While we're on stage (Hey, what's wrong with that?) |