What are you painting me in bright colors?
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Or is your cop dog trained for people like me?
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I do not believe in a fairy tale, and life is not in brilliance
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Right now you are at the helm, what will happen after if
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You are a fat piece of cheese in butter, what am I worth?
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A slice of stale, black bread with salt
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Posters
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A2 format,
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Hari candidates.
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Again, people's choices, 5 per brother.
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A shovel stuffed tight
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Little along the way
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His hand squeezed
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Something that didn't lie well.
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A man worked hard for a year,
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To your boss in a jeep,
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I got into a loan and gave back what I had accumulated over the years.
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A careerist politician does not want to cut down the forest
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Quietly cut down the dough, and disappeared over the hill
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There is no card in hand, it remains to obscene,
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Rats show extraordinary agility
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Your choice is worth nothing, we will weigh the risks
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With anger, smash a bottle of whiskey against the wall
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Wait, registration,
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There is a rat on the throne
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Be calm, son, the ruble will be deducted from the cash register
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My thick brew - mokuhi rap
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The truth of the candidate is rotten, and whores in the thought.
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On the water of the boat, boiling water runs over the frogs
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On time, pack your clothes, brother,
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The ship leaves the dock.
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They climb to power to steal
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Like a dog, seeing a bone, drools with its mouth open
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They make the laws
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Everyone divides up to a penny,
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Everyone rides on the ears,
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To each other - sidekick.
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No one will arrest him
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And mansions are growing.
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Help of another plan, to provide criminal connections.
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The honest ones are uninteresting, the brave ones are overreacted
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They risk lowering their body temperature to zero.
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If you get enemy status
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Better run away
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Life is expensive
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But they will buy it too.
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Good people cry because everyone wants to live happily
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But against this are dogs with a bunch of powers.
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Ment, tax inspector, other issues
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They will leave you with a nose, dude, in front of the boss's corporate party
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I want my protest to be for the future,
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Pack your clothes - the ship leaves the dock at night.
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Life is short, brother, but glory is eternal.
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Trust me, it's not uncommon for a barrel to misfire.
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All around they treat, give fucking hands,
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For me, this is how rulers and candidates lie.
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To a place near serious faces
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Where every friend is actually a sly fox
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The whim is like this, the sketch is ready
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Grab the prize sector
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Working for the benefit of fools.
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A poet at heart, a Protestant in character.
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Freedom is a key word and a constant for me.
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I love to smoke, and I know a lot about it.
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Legalize the plan, because this is not absurd, but sense.
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The cops have long been hucksters instead of a roof.
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They take profits and drive cones themselves.
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And those who just breathe smoke, as if in a cage,
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Complete, shmon, they found a pepetto in the case.
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One more thing: grant freedom to all thieves,
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After all, the bitches that are in power are fucking, but maybe more.
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There is no dough, I blew two lemons from the budget.
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So let's be honest, for whom is the zone crying?
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All fagots - to be sterilized and on the reservation
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Let them arrange gatherings, parties, promotions.
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Abstraction on the theme "liar and pharaohs"
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They took root deep into the system, distorting dogma.
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The sought truth in the order of numbers,
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Where every non-standard kind of solution makes sense.
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I want my protest to be for the future,
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Pack your clothes - the ship leaves the dock at night. |