| — Where were you last night?
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| - Are you talking about the shooting that was last night? |
| I was there, uncle
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| - No, you weren't
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| What in heaven is eating Roger Rabbit?
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| To see that his body was not found
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| And now none of the investigators can understand
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| Who cut the eared face like this
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| God gave a gut, but if it weren't for stupidity
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| They wouldn't lay it like a bearskin
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| An ambulance will move on the road
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| And they will darn us into an ambulance
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| And it's not fucking great if there are pits and bumps
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| And you will write everything down to the last point
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| Break it down for business
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| However, this is not about a beautiful underline
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| Released an article and danced like Tucker
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| You read the article and you are in the trash can
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| And if my sideburns are not corrected normally
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| No, well, tell me the fuck is such a hairdresser?
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| Was strong in journalism, could hit with a word
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| Wrote, fucking, day and night, preparing the basis
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| And you see, as soon as, fucking, I managed to give a reason
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| We were supposed to arrange a meeting, but it turned out to be a farewell,
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| And here it's just as tough as in fights without rules
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| The push is normal, but did not have time to deal with
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| And to merge something there, roamed around the editorial offices,
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| And we would like to know, eared, who shoot ya?
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| Who shot ya would know
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| Such wounds do not heal before the wedding
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| On the lookout of the police department, brothers on the ears
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| Wrestling brothers, ears are pancakes
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| "Hello, dad, settle the problems"
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| "Hello, mother, do not waste your tears" -
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| This is so with the majors, so with the sons,
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| And we are here on our own, on our own
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| FSB officers are testing Nikon at home,
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| And we fire Nikon from the windows
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| Sometimes we break the law
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| And our plans break the law
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| And those who write about us in articles
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| One of these days - dust
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| And our younger ones are in the yards,
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| And our elders in the camps
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| Looking for adventure on the pelvis
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| Photofit in ITAR-TASS
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| We have paid parking lots, facilities along the highways
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| We charge per month from those who charge per hour
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| Public switched to cable
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| Shot from a worn out, service card fell
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| Conscience is sociable, conscience will forgive
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| Mission complete!
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| Whose complete?
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| Mishin!
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| Ears - pancakes, fucker is dented
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| If so, these devils will be fed with cunts
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| TT asks for oil in the clip
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| A couple of seconds and the wallpaper turned red
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| The cracks were wound with a veil, and we feed them with cotton
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| I myself, fucking, not my own - sprawled out on mats
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| Crawl along the knurled with a brilliant injury
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| Capturing foreign odors
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| Exchange without surcharge and fucking salary
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| "I'll take it out," Vlad told me
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| A wooden butt stuck into the soul
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| You are not a kid, you are just a product
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| Violence - needlework
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| Wearing a pectoral cross on a blind man
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| It's a fucking blizzard now, but April will fuck up soon
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| Hey fuck, whose shoe is this?
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| Whose watercolor is on the shirt?
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| Powder package dissolved in that cup
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| The trunk sits in the thigh
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| What did the cap fly off
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| From that bitch iPhones and expensive laptops
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| Sharpen knives candidates of science
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| The lads are dozing out of boredom
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| My heels go to battle
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| Tapping softly, fucking softly |