Chorus:
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Arching backs, leaving tails,
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Rush stuffed "capsules of speed."
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A hot track, not letting it cool down,
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Rush stuffed "capsules of speed."
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Arching backs, leaving tails,
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Rush stuffed "capsules of speed."
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A hot track, not letting it cool down,
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Rush stuffed "capsules of speed."
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There will be aces in the race, well.
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He collected all the money and supplies.
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I found out what the prices are, all the nuances
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Studied on autoslang.
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On the side of the highway, he crowded in the first line.
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Then he cleaned the body of his old classic from excess cargo.
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I tore off the upholstery and plastics to iron, cut off the chair.
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Stopped the time - "Yes! |
Far from a record."
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Then lowered the suspension
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Picked up the camshaft to gear ratios.
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I changed the valves, bored the cylinders in the engine,
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But in such a way as to remain in the category.
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From the handbrake to the rubber squeal, starting,
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Up to forty on the first, sharply on the second.
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A little more, exhausts shoot and growl,
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The hand trembles, and the lever will explode on the third.
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His ear is blocked by the loudness of the roaring sound,
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Which does not stop growing on the left.
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“It’s me who presses the floor, I work.
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I’ll go around it and turn on the fourth one.”
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Chorus:
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Arching backs, leaving tails,
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Rush stuffed "capsules of speed."
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A hot track, not letting it cool down,
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Rush stuffed "capsules of speed."
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“I charge the nights with the smell of alkali.
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The engine is already hot, growling even louder.
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Give me valuable seconds, I'll give them pepper
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The melody of your atomic heart!
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The seams are almost cracking in the steel shell.
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Biting into the asphalt, the soles smoke.
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With the insidious screech of an artillery shell
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Let's fill the veins with nitrogen injection.
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Spectators are gifted with a caustic roar,
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Rival is fed up with my dust
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"Hallelujah! |
More effort, angels descend from heaven.
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I wish I had your wings!”
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Chorus:
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Arching backs, leaving tails,
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Rush stuffed "capsules of speed."
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A hot track, not letting it cool down,
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Rush stuffed "capsules of speed."
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Dy-dy-dy-smoke, soot!
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You seem to be an experienced ace,
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In the trench, the cops are hoarding from anyone without hitting,
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Leaving the post, bypassing trains,
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A star is leading you to the place of arrival.
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The start is given - Lada Sedan.
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Fast beyond his years, like a spark.
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"Press the floor, you must be the first."
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There are no nerves, like a track from wandering in a trance.
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Bet guy in space.
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Zhigalo on "Zhiguli" from scratch - the kings of the steering wheel.
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On the night streets of the city touring,
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In the heat and the storm, they smoke with wheels, the soil is fucked.
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They smoke out of grief, swallow exhausts like a potion out of a fool.
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The heat in the city is time to steer with ambition.
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Fee, spoiler, radar detector
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A set of discs and headlights.
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“Fanfar wanted? |
Rush now without breathing
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Don't make a mistake, you're already at the finish line!"
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Chorus:
|
Arching backs, leaving tails,
|
Rush stuffed "capsules of speed."
|
A hot track, not letting it cool down,
|
Rush stuffed "capsules of speed."
|
Arching backs, leaving tails,
|
Rush stuffed "capsules of speed."
|
A hot track, not letting it cool down,
|
Rush stuffed "capsules of speed." |