мутант ъхвлам - бе славэ
текст песни

Crowds of the military
Points on the veins
There is a broom in the corner of the push
Old Aristarchus believed
That there is no obviously faithful sphere.
He painted the inscription on his back:
"Correct education."
But his mouth in sour cream
........................
Athletes did not count for this
It turns from the snakes
And from the next change of curtains
In the hands of a stalk
And he does not know why
Loves a storm
And under the colors of lightning letters
Avoid getting into the bunker
And does not remember his start
Everything around has become old
Aristarch
Raises frozen cats from the sidewalk
Is in a state of mourning since the castrate has buried
It is upset about the eggs
Two fingers pushes into the mouth
In childhood, no one perceived Maltz
When he paid attention to herons
Angry at roosters
I beat the snot
And a day as General Lebed.
The word fuck was first said
Slicks on the soul of aphids
On the neck is a loop
Hands are folded on the stomach
But it's hard to live in a bunker
All boshki in Brooklyn
Everything, the legs of the chair collapsed

I have thousands of thoughts in my head
And I will say
I will say them by ear
so that they don't hang in the air
I don't drink whiskey
My whiskey does not crush thoughts about pussies
I did not write love notes in life
And I did not think close about Dorg Auto
Like a simple postman
I walk
on the bus or in the tram
I don't care
The total travel money is enough
to the university
I would go there on a bicycle from my ghetto
In boots or in sneakers
I do not care what is dressed
And I would have pulled the leggings from above
Two more missiles and me here
Do not look for me in the store
Look for me in the hopper in the back seat
I'm on simple rubber
The minus rings and I am fighting under it
This is +

Airbus flies off exactly at 11:30
Me and robot policeman
Crossed their thoughts
Like Bruce Lee Biceps
With the Chinese
There is nowhere to fall
Reinforced concrete bunker
serves as a studio
On weekdays
The next Buddha
I confuse letters on posters of fashion groups
I smoke a shala from school
I drive shokh
I wear shorts and hood
nothing to add
I feel good
I would never have found myself in
business show
remaining cheap for expensive sales
And the musical of the Chopov
..........................
yellow chocolate major quotes
And Alexander Cicalo
The weather of the Southern Urals
I bathed me in dirty water flows
Killed in shit
We smoke in the bunker here comfortable and warm
the gates are thunder but this is not a word
But this is not a word
There is a lot of donkeys around
Claustrophobia will build a social layer
Who did not fit the spare
But not worth it
The basement is not a ditch
Bulat Okudzhava is not our brother
This is the shmalevo slag Bulat.