Мачетэ - Короновать - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

(Kiwi)

But my style is rude, from lips a bishop juice of love dripped to the floor

Lapal Bix, they piled them with a drama, then fucked with his brother,

Then he fucked with his brother ...

(Full -wheel drive, all -wheel drive) ...

Because it is ki. Because it is VI.,

Because the biks is sick, and you will tear you out,

to the toilet,

Because it is a four -wheel drive - Black and AS, because it is J.B. - Tachini and K.V.,

Because there is something to choose from

Because to make rap since we are impossible, fucking.

You can play, move, hide.

This Colincor of Words makes you become cancer!,

And only in a swing

In one fell swoop, the bulls catch the fray.

Because oh we know Vova Ptah ...

(Tachini)

.. to life,

On a machine of life, many people rush, grumble, sticking out, mumble, do not silently, do not silent

Demons climb into the chat, in the roles of the executioner, growl rudely, such are scum, they cut them from the shoulder,

screech, shine of the sword when their phrases sound,

Stupid, stupidly, people will be awarded to the Oscar, and it will be wonderful.

Many are rushing, where the "grandfather" of the child,

Our rap is waking up

Only our Repe will be and there will be no one else ...

(BEAN.)

.. let the bush, joy will grow. There is also a mile away, like Star Dust, smoke start from the mouth,

But do not glue the fins, because there will be smoke gust, foam, pulls, felts are not poison, roofing felts is not clear. The attack of the feelings, right from the mouth, is not asthma.

The era of the arts of the flock is your bush of wealth. joker. For one or two, brotherhood ...

(Karim)

.. naval on the mouth of the waffles,

I do not hang out on the beach nudist,

I'm on disco, swing on the pelvis on the disks,

There are no rooks in the lists. There are no brakes ... There are no brakes ... The brakes have no squeak.

My style flash piano, answer for the bazaar, get down to the carrion, or Davi on the pedal,

bitch, devil, pendal, bitch, damn ..

(Spuni)

.. we sort out, choose,

to whom in the clearing is karavay, to whom there is a household

to whom to steal, who to score,

to whom to give a bargain.

Everything is decided in a common heap, who is cooler, if you want to put a bitch, I’m cherished to you, you will torment my soul, you will become cooler, you will become cooler

Mega Balakut.

I am still not from Versachachi and not from gushi, in the way and just light a ray, from the street,

Me and my campso, we sausage rap,

And we do not dream of strutting general stripes,

I still wear three stripes from Adidas "Lotuses" and of course cigarettes,

Bosya style, boss style ..

Bosya style, boss style ..