| Chorus:
|
| You need another baby, fuck love
|
| It's stupid instinct. |
| You will undress with him also easily,
|
| But only with me you could smile.
|
| Baby, well, who's handsome, handsome?
|
| You need another, and this is not news.
|
| Questions about trust, is he a fucking psychologist? |
| (handsome)
|
| While I'm on a tour of the country,
|
| Cash on your whims for a couple of albums.
|
| The mannerist is scorching who grew up on everything ready.
|
| And I could find myself a more modest fool.
|
| What the hell is he shaking like he's been stabbed with something?
|
| What the hell is this in your head?
|
| You know, girl, where and what happened to me.
|
| How much fucking money was my name worth.
|
| From relty to pamphlets, who is he, yeah,
|
| Don't touch me, I'm not breathing in the hotel room.
|
| To remain a neurotic in the hatch.
|
| Run away from everyone, lay low in Bruges,
|
| I'm looking for worse problems than Google.
|
| Well, who warmed up the place under the skirt?
|
| Well baby think!
|
| We slept on the floor without offense and fortune,
|
| But give you Schengen and Vancouver,
|
| A lot of shopping and partying in clubs.
|
| I know your limit is Cheesecake and McFlury.
|
| Often in the morning they turned and blew it away.
|
| Twisted and blown away.
|
| Now, fly away with him, well, what the fuck?
|
| Chorus:
|
| You need another, baby, fuck love!
|
| It's stupid instinct. |
| You undress with him
|
| It's also easy, but only with me you could smile.
|
| And with him it’s like a passport photo.
|
| Baby, well, who's handsome here?
|
| You are no longer unique.
|
| It's all double jack and extreme.
|
| I can move the earth while we sleep.
|
| Water washes away makeup
|
| This is me about those people who are under it.
|
| I went on a spree
|
| I will leave young and in my juice.
|
| Everyone around me is telling me to take care of my mind. |
| Hmm.
|
| These are all tales of bores!
|
| Come on, brothers! |
| C'mon!
|
| I have an album on my shelf.
|
| Give me just upfront loot,
|
| I am a fan of pouring Moёt champagne up to my feet!
|
| You don't have money to get home.
|
| I poured the fee into a Chinese stall, I for tsatski with booze.
|
| My life is an American pie! |
| A web of hellish debt!
|
| For merchants - a percentage, for the state - a tax!
|
| In my house, guests sleep on the floor.
|
| The question torments me: where did I hide the grass?
|
| My ill-wishers are sitting on a stake,
|
| I would go to a resort to sunbathe in Malibu.
|
| I go up until the burdens are heavy,
|
| I will enter paradise with a cry. |
| God, it's us!
|
| There will be more cats and silence in old age,
|
| In the meantime, my sneakers are worn out, but alive.
|
| Chorus:
|
| You need another, baby, fuck love!
|
| It's stupid instinct. |
| You undress with him
|
| It's also easy, but only with me you could smile.
|
| And with him it’s like a passport photo.
|
| Baby, well, who's handsome here?
|
| You are no longer unique. |