Миссионер - Чувство голода
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Твоя мадама стреляет |глазами любезно - Циклоп|,
Раствор ты, не твёрдый, из |сказаний - железно сыкло|.
Мне поровну, я смерч, в строну, |мудак, возьми|,
Плач градом, ведь торнадо ты, как |Эдуард Кузьмин|.
Я, как выговор строгий, она ноги, как |боксёр раз|двинет|,
Про дерьмо вспоминали давно, но ты |тяжёл на помине|.
Панч игла, |ребристый|, у тебя он как в |стоге сена|,
Для ваших баб мы |таксисты|, говорят |трогай всем нам|.
Я не хотел, но шанс взъебать на |бите вы мне дали|,
Треки на одноухий баттл не |влетев вылетают|.
Девчата |кричат нам|, с |лирой, нытьём кругом позади|,
Ебло |запечатай|, ведь я в |играх с огнём его победил|.
Вмазал грамм |сто|, тебя настолько |бы же вдали закрыл,|
Ты не затопил бильярдный |стол|, но |тоже залил шары|.
По мне много не |сохло дам|, мяса я вам |скоро дам|,
|Болван|, из всех чувств у меня там лишь чувство |голода|.
Your Madama shoots | with his eyes kindly - Cyclops |,
You are a solution, not hard, from | legends - Iron Sylok |.
I am equal to me, I am a tornado, in the side, | asshole, take |,
Crying hail, because you are tornado, like | Eduard Kuzmin |.
I, as a strict reprimand, she is my legs, how | Boxer will move |,
They remembered the shit for a long time, but you were | hard at the wake |.
Punch needle, | ribbed |, you have it like in | haystack |,
For your women we are | Taxi drivers | they say | touch all of us |.
I did not want to, but the chance to tackle on | Bit you gave me |
The tracks on the single -eared battles do not | flying fly away |.
Girls | shout to us | with | lyre, whining around around |,
Fool | Seal | because I won it in | games with fire |.
I smelled a gram | hundred |, you are so | I would have closed in the distance, |
You did not flood the billiard room | table |, but | also flooded balls |.
For me a lot not | I will give a dry |, I will give you the meat soon |
| Bolvan |, of all feelings, I have only a feeling there | Hunger |.
You are a solution, not hard, from | legends - Iron Sylok |.
I am equal to me, I am a tornado, in the side, | asshole, take |,
Crying hail, because you are tornado, like | Eduard Kuzmin |.
I, as a strict reprimand, she is my legs, how | Boxer will move |,
They remembered the shit for a long time, but you were | hard at the wake |.
Punch needle, | ribbed |, you have it like in | haystack |,
For your women we are | Taxi drivers | they say | touch all of us |.
I did not want to, but the chance to tackle on | Bit you gave me |
The tracks on the single -eared battles do not | flying fly away |.
Girls | shout to us | with | lyre, whining around around |,
Fool | Seal | because I won it in | games with fire |.
I smelled a gram | hundred |, you are so | I would have closed in the distance, |
You did not flood the billiard room | table |, but | also flooded balls |.
For me a lot not | I will give a dry |, I will give you the meat soon |
| Bolvan |, of all feelings, I have only a feeling there | Hunger |.
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