TIM5-1 - классика - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

I want to please the eyes with bright colors - write under the clasics, strokes gently ironing the canvas Potskaya. Who will sell it with the highest classmate, because the mind is breathing from the brakes of Music created, and not to pay to her how to steal them in parts. It is pointless and there would be a low word not to express, because close so.

After all, the music for men in the OZK, for the RC and for the grandfather with the staff, the musician carries his way, and it is quite easy that I carry my text for Maine with the brain consciously.

I would like to take all the styles, the walls to move and thereby erect an indivisible and a single stimulus, but someone took into account the tastes and thoughts themselves scattered beads. The days of the dogs were spawned as a rubbish toothy jaws labeling my feelings Were Losts honest for a local Sureness and barely I will go with E4 on E2.

Libido asked to merge all the forces on the bitches, but Winamp was maniling to guilt the play without mani to vinyl, because Mana changed the Fris under rum and minus Steel Will Thought Challenge on the Hippodrome

On Shcherbakov with Mas-Low, the caste for Hastle was held after a concert.

At Eisid, twice wrote vocals after the gland everything in the feces, but it does not matter

Chevrons divided 7-8 and 5-1 on different directions in order to Tim could win

Kurt wrote bits, Nike in the studio, the cat was dropped by Viskar, and I was looking for what people would appreciate.

Prairie comments made believe for a moment - what I don't care about other people's opinions

If you distort the words and change the flows, everything is in a row in the ranks of the destination

After all, I have been thinking about music in a hat with my childhood in a hat, walking a shawny

This is the music of the city around the ora there is a lot so the motif under pressure is one Fora man

Black as foreman- only butafory, satisfied in the head I am looking for a metaphor i

And to get to the bottom not to do without a Timletor, after all, in a short time she will cover the wave - believe me.

I did not raise my hands to the sky, I do not believe. I am rushing mono and stereo - music is a mystery

My hysteria lies in twips with the soul made by pulling out of their body

My talent-psycho, wrapped by hydrants, tilted bassis with mats with mats

Atama Fatum in the player Volkman Rap erases Folk Maine, my sheep donate the wolf.

I spit with clang in the faces of the Blyatsky, when we throw tsatqs to the graves of fraternal

I am writing rap and myself griefly in the fire admissive, write that it's great and I do not lower my head

Tracks - new chapters, locked in the enclave, to the word-rap glory Wang Love

By right, inventing the image of the fictional Opus dei will repay in order to empty hundreds of eyes in this matter.

I am married to rape and crucified the rhymes are standing under my gust

yards to you on the figs from that time you stopped when I was playing my style

It is known that he is seasoned, as it is preparing, as served and most importantly, as much

Isoo amateur? Catch sharpened staf from the Kola Peninsula on the legs

Without a muling, you can not find out that you can impose nodes if you write a track near the minus packet

hang in the right places and began to be back not to turn the steering wheel and do not blow away sails

Who washed on the hundred times his phrases knows that thoughts like birds fly so fast

Paper and Word Text Catch the Solution Padded Cell Bitcho will open only by the bit

And on the network on the wall start mine visited and deceive from 5-1 and enslaves

It's time to throw the thread of the guy, I will vite soberly after all you see that the image cuts the hands of the blade

You can see from the windows of the curved cocoon clouds in the form of a tupak or couper apple

You still see the desired in the sky, and I saw myself in rape and put a minus to Rapit

He demands a lot and pocket Treplet, rusked with words specifically and it is noticeable

This is the eclipse of the copper rider do not give him a sauced bread for the poor