| 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.
|
| 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.
|
| The gunshot flashed.
|
| The gunshot flashed.
|
| 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. |