СД - Утро, каждое утро
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Утро, каждое утро на выходах,
Неплохо на долю нам выпало.
И ты рядом лежишь, так загадочно,
Знаю, этот ёбаный мир словно выдуман.
За окном рассвет, за окном туман,
Не придирайся к словам.
Ну а что ты хотела, бьюсь об заклад,
Ты знала заранее, что я - грубиян.
Мажет, хотя вчера было нервно,
Плюс погода поддакивает.
Продолжить, тут либо «да», либо «нет»,
Хуй его знает, где счастливый билет лежит.
Так много книг,
Бьюсь об заклад, я прочитал их все.
500 лошадей,
200 км в час по встречной полосе.
Ты осудишь походу,
Хотя сам записал еще хуже, чем Лёша висел,
Ты воюешь с природой,
Нельзя жить, когда есть преграда из стен.
Ведь где-то есть выход,
И дорогу к нему я найду и продолжу путь .
Пускай это цикл,
На пятнадцатом круге познаю суть.
Зато лицемерие – это не про меня,
Мне нет смысла врать.
Я продолжу сейчас и смогу обещать,
Что и завтра продолжу продолжать.
Ты по жизни пиздат, у тебя все отлично,
Есть руки и ноги.
У меня же есть та, кто разделит со мной половину
Этой дороги.
Припев. (х2)
И я знаю, что это неправильно,
Группа «Грот» не одобрит,
Но прости, больше нет сил наматывать
На твои уши мои новые сопли.
Я знаю, что это неправильно,
Миша Маваши вряд ли оценит,
Зато это точно доставило
По венам сквозь сердце к намеченной цели.
Да, я точно мудло,
Я делал тебе больно не раз.
Но мне кажется, мне повезло,
Ведь я не на зло, быль вместо тысячи слов.
Откинься назад, поудобнее в кресло,
И чувствуй, как оно проваливается.
А еще ищи новое место,
Ведь в прежнем давно уже тесно.
Давай, расскажи мне, хотя стой,
Я сам расскажу, мне не впадлу,
Снова куда-то не в ту степь ушел,
Знаешь, забыл, ну и ладно.
Мои мысли запутались, словно наушники
В кармане толстовки.
Больше не буду, не верю сам себе,
Раскусил все уловки свои.
В детстве во сне не летал,
Но по-прежнему я вам читаю мимо бита,
И не тащится по мне школота,
Но ведь так даже лучше, знаю, умру где-то там.
Умру как-то так, начертив перед собой спидов пентаграмму,
Возможно, возможно лучше бы перестал я.
А может и нет,
Может быть мне начертано в хуй отправлять свою жизнь,
А может быть это тот свет,
Что в конце той хуйни для меня не горит.
Может быть, это всего лишь комплексы,
Неохота ощущать себя лохом.
Но на самом деле ответ многим проще:
«Просто мне похуй».
Припев (х2)
Малыш, жаловаться маме на меня не надо,
Малыш, жаловаться маме на меня не надо,
Малыш, жаловаться маме на меня не надо,
Ты знаешь, я хороший… ха-ха…
Малыш, жаловаться маме на меня не надо,
Малыш, жаловаться маме на меня не надо,
Малыш, жаловаться маме на меня не надо,
Ведь ты и она знают прекрасно, что я охуенный…
Morning, every morning at the outputs,
Not bad for a share of us fell.
And you lie next, so mysteriously,
I know this Yybani world as if fused.
Outside the window dawn, outside the window fog,
Do not come face to words.
Well, what did you want, fighting the mortgage,
You knew in advance that I am Grubian.
Smears, although yesterday it was nervously,
Plus the weather claims.
Continue, here either "yes" or "no"
Dick knows him where a happy ticket is lying.
So many books
I bet, I read them all.
500 horses,
200 km per hour on the oncoming lane.
You condemn the campaign,
Although he himself recorded even worse than Lesha hung,
You fight with nature,
It is impossible to live when there is an obstacle from the walls.
After all, somewhere there is a way out,
And I will find the way to him and continue the way.
Let it cycle,
On the Fifteenth Circle, know the essence.
But hypocrisy is not about me,
I make no sense to lie.
I will continue now and I can promise
What and tomorrow will continue to continue.
You in life pussy, you have everything perfectly,
There are hands and legs.
I have a one who divides half with me
This road.
Chorus. (x2)
And I know that it is wrong
The group "Grotto" will not approve,
But forgive, no longer have the strength
My ears are my new snot.
I know it is wrong
Misha Mavashi is unlikely to appreciate
But it accurately delivered
On the veins through the heart to the target target.
Yes, I am surely wise
I did it hurts more than once.
But it seems to me, I was lucky
After all, I am not evil, it is instead of a thousand words.
Throw back, more comfortable in the chair,
And feel like it fails.
And still look for a new place,
After all, the same has long been closely.
Come on, tell me, although stand
I'll tell you, I'm not inadlu
Again somewhere not in that steppe gone
You know, I forgot, well, well.
My thoughts confused, like headphones
In the pocket of hoodies.
I will not, I do not believe myself,
Discaled all the tricks of my own.
In childhood in a dream did not fly,
But still I read you past the bit,
And the shkolota is not dragged for me,
But it's even better, I know, I will die somewhere there.
I will die somehow, drawing in front of yourself the Pentagram,
Perhaps maybe it would be better than I stopped.
Or maybe not,
Maybe I'm inscribed in dick send your life
And maybe this is the light,
That at the end of that huyani does not burn for me.
Maybe it's just complexes,
Reluctance to feel like a sucker.
But in fact, the answer is easier to many:
"I just fuck me."
Chorus (x2)
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
You know, I am good ... ha ha ...
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
After all, you and she know perfectly that I am fucking ...
Not bad for a share of us fell.
And you lie next, so mysteriously,
I know this Yybani world as if fused.
Outside the window dawn, outside the window fog,
Do not come face to words.
Well, what did you want, fighting the mortgage,
You knew in advance that I am Grubian.
Smears, although yesterday it was nervously,
Plus the weather claims.
Continue, here either "yes" or "no"
Dick knows him where a happy ticket is lying.
So many books
I bet, I read them all.
500 horses,
200 km per hour on the oncoming lane.
You condemn the campaign,
Although he himself recorded even worse than Lesha hung,
You fight with nature,
It is impossible to live when there is an obstacle from the walls.
After all, somewhere there is a way out,
And I will find the way to him and continue the way.
Let it cycle,
On the Fifteenth Circle, know the essence.
But hypocrisy is not about me,
I make no sense to lie.
I will continue now and I can promise
What and tomorrow will continue to continue.
You in life pussy, you have everything perfectly,
There are hands and legs.
I have a one who divides half with me
This road.
Chorus. (x2)
And I know that it is wrong
The group "Grotto" will not approve,
But forgive, no longer have the strength
My ears are my new snot.
I know it is wrong
Misha Mavashi is unlikely to appreciate
But it accurately delivered
On the veins through the heart to the target target.
Yes, I am surely wise
I did it hurts more than once.
But it seems to me, I was lucky
After all, I am not evil, it is instead of a thousand words.
Throw back, more comfortable in the chair,
And feel like it fails.
And still look for a new place,
After all, the same has long been closely.
Come on, tell me, although stand
I'll tell you, I'm not inadlu
Again somewhere not in that steppe gone
You know, I forgot, well, well.
My thoughts confused, like headphones
In the pocket of hoodies.
I will not, I do not believe myself,
Discaled all the tricks of my own.
In childhood in a dream did not fly,
But still I read you past the bit,
And the shkolota is not dragged for me,
But it's even better, I know, I will die somewhere there.
I will die somehow, drawing in front of yourself the Pentagram,
Perhaps maybe it would be better than I stopped.
Or maybe not,
Maybe I'm inscribed in dick send your life
And maybe this is the light,
That at the end of that huyani does not burn for me.
Maybe it's just complexes,
Reluctance to feel like a sucker.
But in fact, the answer is easier to many:
"I just fuck me."
Chorus (x2)
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
You know, I am good ... ha ha ...
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
Kid, to complain mom at me not,
After all, you and she know perfectly that I am fucking ...
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