kaspiyskiy gruz - oy,moroz
текст песни

Oh, frost, frost, not frost, throw
Brothers together, even when apart
Brothers together like grapes bunch
Always along the fence and never through
From Palo Seats, to remote places
Like Clean Leaf, before Evergreen
From the room at the hotel, to the room at the chest
From the opera in the parter, to the opera behind
Who cigarettes, to whom smoke from the trunk
To whom the minarets, whom the dome
To the roads of Pskov, to whom Makhachkala
To whom the city of the winds, who
Mobile number changed, numbers interrupted
Said, died Kirill, but did not speak
Feed fish, grandmother in Reebok bag
Raised a glass drank, closed the door, dropped out
Further train, with conductor, levac
Sucked in Vidyaevo, 40 minutes walk
I dropped the bag with a friend, gave her to the larynx
From Skype zinking the belly, deeds - seed
Month February - month of fucked
Socks terry, douty curtains
I'll face everything, I will return to Baku, maybe
Oh, frost, frost, not frost, throw

[Weighing]
Not frost, throw
Before the gray, yes to the cane, the Lord
Never hungry, always to help
Behind the back so that brother and not cops, fucking, on the heels
In her mouth gives her ladies - let the bitch shut down
Break the castle, fucking, then leaving the windows
Does not want to be someone drunk in the corner
Life is not sweet Bobaleh, but someone is not Zohan
You have to get lost on distant distances
Steamboats, Aviation, Station, Stations
And not before dancing us, we run sprint
While our faces print printer
God, nice sweet nail
For the fact that the incorrect sheltered
He moved the heel until everything was amended
And in the courtyard trouble chases, fuck, swirl
On the Richter scale sometimes shakes
Immediately replace the number and plane
Flight to Saratova and I am glad there
And I'm from the side after the ladies for them in the footsteps
Month February - Month Pedal
From all sides, what, fuck, gives
And you do not be angry and know here as a guest
Soon I leave, fucking. Oh, frost, not frost

[Slovenian]
Snow, fresh
Kosolapiy thought: "Give, pollen" - here the bearings on Peugeot
But nothing, now they will take the engine
Winter native, on the snowdrifts of ruddy rolls
Wolf starving, yes, cold is
Epiphany crop
But not a gelk old miller
On felt boots
Hiswo left, hung over the forest
And what happened to him, only the forest, brother, is known (only the forest)
On the snow belt on the foreground
Third year over the abyss of the petrel
Indians in search of "Crane there is where"
Minus twenty - all in the entrance
Here, waters do not score
Bruising February
Illusions screws out that the kropal remained here
Like months palm sheels
Norm here until the end of April in the go of the felt
There are not even anomalies, the century of their Mowgli
Scatters Saiga Coal
Under good snow keeps taiga rubles
Taiga Ruble