ЕЖЕМЕСЯЧНЫЕ - Боны умирали
текст песни

Friend, sit down, let's remember our youth
Do you remember how we forcibly cut our heads?
Now you go to chop-chop
Hairstyle with bangs stylist fashionable
And before he called himself proudly bon
Broadcast about the right affairs of the over-smart like Gordon
On TV instead of training on horizontal bars
Hyper trainings in marketing
Yes, that's how bonds died
And I remember the school and the courtyard on the shore
2 Mahmud 3 Edik
Grinders in the blood
We are listening to F.P.G tracks
Happy, proud, let's go to Lyudmila
Dust in the eyes, we fuck chips and beer from the store
You and the whitefish grabbed this luxury life
Luda Lapari's fat sides were flying in the clouds
And they greedily painted the world, detail by detail, white.
And now you don't want war one bit
Yes, that's how bonds died

Bons were dying to come back
Backs bend under the spirals
Youth will give us gray hair
We're waltzing through time
Let's fly like a tracer to 2003
Then there was a dolphin at the peak
Now let's fly into the Finnish
To spend all the money
And someone will cut our lives like cuticles
I remember the holidays and drinking alcohol in the computer club
Now let's spin here
And this spliff is not karakurt not uchkuduk outside the window
But we honor prohibition
And the car with people rushes without stopping
There's a pine forest there
You were at the heart of the bonus
Died as a rickety old man
Life is still a satericon
And the cat's house will burn down again
Memory films are crumpled up on sleeping linens and a white tablecloth.
What was there in the wrap
What the fuck difference does it make?
When the prankster of fate stirs up executions for us
You have lived too little because you were cheated at the checkout
Broken vertebra
Who showed him the movie Yamakashi
Why is she going to his prison in this taxi?
I don't know, I only know the syn numbers
To relax and get some gerasim

I am writing you a letter from Vologda, answer Lyudmila
Without you I need villas Luda
I sleep on graves
And the cold dead are warmer than me on long nights
The eagles of our rock opera are so tired
Do you remember Gray got excited about a cool car?
We went to Gachnaya
Rubbing something with Galtsev
He said everything was fine
But Gray got a butterfly
Garbage guys are encircling us
I am writing to you from a city near Kirov
I'm rooting for Russia and spinning papiras
I didn’t copy the styles
MC Bagheera is laying here
Without his Lyudmila, Bon died peacefully
I saw dreams in reality
He will come in the morning, stretch out his hand and point his finger at his Armenian wife
Khmurari will sigh, the ax will cut
In the flesh he is an ancient God and wants blood
I saw dreams in reality
He will come in the morning and stretch out his hand and point his finger at his Armenian wife
Khmurari will sigh, the ax will cut
In the flesh he is an ancient God and wants blood