| I say to poverty: "Goodbye!"
|
| I say troubles to everyone: "Farewell!"
|
| I say to torn sneakers: "Goodbye!"
|
| I say to the former virgins: "Goodbye!"
|
| And I'm cheerful again, like a toastmaster
|
| I'm going to cities again with concerts
|
| My songs are like bullets to the heads
|
| After all, my flow is an automatic machine
|
| Nobody believed in me, like, I'll be nobody
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| They drove me from work with a kick, they said: “There are no places”
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| Like Louis Vuitton was dressed in the market
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| For myself was King Kong, for others - Grivet
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| McDonald's, at the checkout, ten pieces a month
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| At the club kneading at night, ten by ten
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| At the end of the desk, I wrote thousands of texts
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| Tried, tried, but to no avail, damn it!
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| Mama said, "Get a job"
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| Mom, I'm sorry, your son is an idiot
|
| In vain I put my brains on the shelf
|
| I got rich a long time ago if I was a nerd
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| They asked what heights I would reach
|
| I immediately answered: “I want to be a star!”
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| The director calls me worthless
|
| After listening to him, I dropped out of school
|
| And I'm cheerful again, like a toastmaster
|
| I'm going to cities again with concerts
|
| My songs are like bullets to the heads
|
| After all, my flow is an automatic machine
|
| Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta!
|
| And I'm cheerful again, like a toastmaster
|
| I'm going to cities again with concerts
|
| My songs are like bullets to the heads
|
| After all, my flow is an automatic machine
|
| Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta!
|
| Twenty-zero-nine - the first promo
|
| The first bitches like my photo
|
| Twenty-Eleven - with the first album
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| The first concert is a penny, fuck it!
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| I won't cry for you anymore
|
| My brothers and I are here to the end
|
| Standing original, fuck counterfeit
|
| We dance on the bones - ram-pam-pam!
|
| (Vroom-vroom!)
|
| My Japanese carries me
|
| I became a superhero
|
| I swam across the sea of pain
|
| I'm having fun, fuck snot with love
|
| Chanel drags from the bitch
|
| I'm not a dancer, but I love dancing in bed
|
| I shared my pants with my brother - this is in the past
|
| Jevanshi perfume, now "Hello, luxury!"
|
| I cry for everyone again - the magic of numbers
|
| I don't give a fuck about everything - my mother is proud of me
|
| The director asks to let her daughter on the lists
|
| After the concert, painting on my daughter's boobs
|
| I say to poverty: "Goodbye!"
|
| I say troubles to everyone: "Farewell!"
|
| I say to torn sneakers: "Goodbye!"
|
| I say to the former virgins: "Goodbye!"
|
| And I'm cheerful again, like a toastmaster
|
| I'm going to cities again with concerts
|
| My songs are like bullets to the heads
|
| After all, my flow is an automatic machine
|
| Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta!
|
| And I'm cheerful again, like a toastmaster
|
| I'm going to cities again with concerts
|
| My songs are like bullets to the heads
|
| After all, my flow is an automatic machine
|
| Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta!
|
| I say to poverty: "Goodbye!"
|
| I say troubles to everyone: "Farewell!"
|
| I say to torn sneakers: "Goodbye!"
|
| I say to the former virgins: "Goodbye!"
|
| And I'm cheerful again, like a toastmaster
|
| I'm going to cities again with concerts
|
| My songs are like bullets to the heads
|
| After all, my flow is an automatic machine |