Arseny Troshin
|
DJ Shved
|
And Loki-Dogi-Dogi-Dog
|
Listen
|
Ae
|
Shoved love through the vein, a little with the infection of whoredom
|
I forgot how I promised the gods not to fall in love with you
|
Probably everyone should have grips
|
Out of sight, rainfall was observed
|
On the field of burden, out of the time zone
|
Network coverage areas, on the head with parabellum
|
And I press the spaces instead of the text about love in verse
|
I can't explain it to you
|
Gave Weakness in 2004
|
When your image overcame my brain in all seriousness
|
Seriously
|
Until now, not a single buzz in the world
|
Will not rid my head of the memory of these curiosities
|
Fuck it, even if it's all in verse and prose
|
Sweaty daddy pinches you in the salon
|
And I'm alone in the crowd of freaks and whores
|
And you are like them, but you just like more
|
I achieved these successes in sports
|
In order not to fall below the grade for such a beauty
|
Everything I remember from these sports years
|
It's the cells of the press that will ache wildly after the party.
|
You are on Cayenne in tennis in white sneakers
|
I put words on backing tracks on shit
|
And everyone is drawn with painted fire
|
If you heard, you would kill me for these snot
|
I'll make a fat road for myself with coke
|
I'll put a sick bitch on my piston
|
She will squirm, stirring me up
|
I'll throw her out of the salon, because I feel good and so
|
You need Europe and there
|
Fashion in Italy, fresh Dutch ecstasy
|
I want to expand the consciousness of the masses
|
So that the ugliness of phrases takes off the masks from the faggots around
|
If suddenly I caught fire from the pipes
|
And lingered in heaven while performing garbage
|
After looking like a decomposed corpse
|
And as I want myself, I behave
|
This is what I am for
|
You can score on life, move through the veins,
|
But I have not seen a feeling cooler than this love for you
|
Somewhere with Bix behind the cinema in the parking lot
|
Didn't stand after two grams, a bottle of whiskey and a scan
|
In memories flashed your soft cheek
|
Didn't count the minutes on the clock in the yard
|
And if I had known you since kindergarten
|
Then we would get married, I answer, I answer
|
The air was desperately pounding on the remains of the brain
|
Talent set sail from the minds of the island
|
And we haven't finished in sync with you for a long time
|
Swinging on a swing with homies, it's January in the yard
|
If you are a creature, learn to hate yourself
|
If you are high, then help not to get used to yourself
|
And everyone in life had to depend on something
|
When jumpers jam in slow suicide
|
Roofs and backs, horsepower, spinners, splits
|
And innocent intercourse of loved ones
|
And the first wildly AIDS-ridden
|
Steel nerves are trophied, wildly razita
|
I want to be on your body like a parasite
|
You will get out of the shower again, we will turn off the TV again, and I will fly
|
And I'll forget a couple of years under the paraphernalia of your love
|
That would be fun, that would be fun.
|
You will get out of the shower again, we will turn off the TV again, and I will fly
|
And I'll forget a couple of years under the paraphernalia of your love
|
That would be fun, that would be fun.
|
This is for you |