Lodoss - Если б я был - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

It is generally accepted that everything multiplies over the years, the same skill also grows among the most unfortunate readers. But the seventh calendar has expired, the list of certificates is still stingy, I even sing in banter, identical, the same. However...

Bright, fresh and juicy, and with it I

I'll be popular as fuck

It’s a pity that not all the lights are on in my head, and the fans don’t crave the place.

This is Murik, it’s the south, only to the north of everyone, here you’re either an ass underground, or stirring up to grime and dubstep, and I suddenly went crazy, and I sing the sweetest rap, exclusive to pop syrup, like a furry animal in a wheel, or to a not above, hated by everyone at once, I would have blown my fucking brains out if I were weak.

And again I make a face behind the line, everyone is happy, which means no one realizes what all the fuss is about, the identical and wonderful appearance of the copies of my weeks, I would have a personal day, obviously, if I were a groundhog.

Modus with an anode, look, I bring fire to them, but they said that if I draw with my foot, a disabled person, my size is unique but does not fit into the doorway, sometimes I myself dream: if only I were thin.

I’m not happy with the stigma from the crowd, they pack it into a format, they will calm down only when you completely become like their crap.

I would be glad to meet someone who is not stupid, but everywhere you look there is a clown on the buffoon, and their jokes are stuffy, and do I need to listen to the same thing every day.

Testosterone is boiling in the blood, this is success, if I were Xeron, a fashionable Uzbek would also bring me together, and such an unusual electronic sound, not like everyone else, pours out of the speakers every day, through the now generous network. It’s time for me to pamper him with fire, they forget about the essence and words, let’s suppress the poetic gift that the muse gave us, and about the mind that was settled in him. Motto: The Pepsi generation will die in a tin, made from their own rods, I’m only sharing my thoughts.

If I were different, I wouldn’t stubbornly twist my finger at my temple, seeing how the words on your sheets lose their meaning, over and over again hearing reviews that everything is wrong, in the costume of the same rodent.