Chorus:
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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His trunk shone so
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That a passing lady's underpants flew off from under her skirts.
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There was no maza along Nikolskaya to give another round.
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So he sat down insolently,
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Right a stone's throw from the Kremlin, ala voila.
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You just freaked out
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And he took on an unbearable weight.
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A stable barrel allows you to solve problems in rubles
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Or purely solarium,
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Mongol-Tatars stupidly from the Panamera,
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Gracefully, Herman takes out the first one.
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Ramses are confused like Albanians with Serbs,
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Oh, how Lermontov missed the Caucasus.
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Where trunks were responsible for the bazaar,
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The faithful horses kept the men on their backs to the end.
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And let the sight be smeared,
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If only the accuracy was uniform.
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Stechkin still didn't have time to warm up,
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And the shirt of the poor fellow is already strewn with worms.
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For, for Russia, cross-eyed Kasyan, purely with a wave,
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Shmal in an oath.
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Yes, by the way, they didn’t fly out of the cut
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By the way, gingerbread cookies are sweet.
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Snow boiled under warm shells,
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The ammunition was fired and stomped.
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The fool has such a return that he leaves without shoes.
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For this, when she waters, try to resist.
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Is it hard to snatch a Nobel for shooting in the area?
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The question disappears, if, of course, you hit like Kobe, bra.
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Here they hit the attic, not the legs,
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Clean from the trigger on the finger burns.
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Senya, did you miss everything again? |
I'm shocked.
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They will open your attic with a trunk out of the way.
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With pleasure, as if by hymen,
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The gun barrel was a device, not a canteen.
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The gun barrel was a device, not a canteen
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Chorus:
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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From Moscow to Cuba
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Desperate fifas take out the cut-offs from under the skirts.
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Only if gunpowder is damp near their farm,
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Then all this is down the drain, brother.
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And, in general, when everything is smooth,
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That chik-chik removed the bison from the first take.
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If you loaded it right on the forehead, yes,
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Tony Koda clicked the tools from the factory.
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And so it’s fashionable to play pranks with trauma,
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In general, the devils have lost their scent, they take it out anywhere.
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But this is at least, dear, not serious,
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Somehow not at all pompous.
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It's better to squeeze the glack from the Austrians,
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Let it not even iron,
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Nakrainyak declare yourself from Grandfather's sawn-off shotgun,
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Eh, it’s crowded for oilers in the store,
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They are very interested in what test
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Mom and dad sip you there.
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And now the beloved finally shone,
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And, in general, there is an actual maza,
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Throw fifty dollars of mowers into the ammunition,
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To get up faster
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Cleanly cut the freshest celery from collectors.
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But if you are a dear truffle,
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Hanging over and pushing bullshit.
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Sooner or later you will fly out of your shoes,
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Roast like potatoes, blacker coffee blew,
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You will see in full face, not in profile.
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Chorus:
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed.
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The gunshot flashed. |