Текст песни Каспийский Груз feat Jahmal TGK - Папин бродяга, мамин симпатяга

Em
You're so much like angels
For me it is visible that I was drunk
But we have a whole two pieces
Divide this path in life long
You want a son - I want my daughter
Behind me a side of the wall
Well I'm not a loner
Well you're next to me
Music night will tear to shreds
Any fall or spring
So I imagine all the hair in a hair I
Thankful that all this is happening to me
Our time is not yet published
It turned out that it has not yet come
Life hastily forward and is not funny
Deeds not cranking but everything will be decided decided
Our town is not a gift but precious
City roads broken city road engines
There is only cathedrals kilometers of fences
And cold eyes yards but here is my blood
Yes, I grew up on these open spaces
I went on this road a hundred times
In these endless corridors
Breaking anything and there is life
Yes, I grew up on these open spaces
I went on this road a hundred times
In these endless corridors
Breaking anything and there is life

I Moscow naughty playboy
In the barracks of the Gulag Archipelago
I saw the world from paper curl MakDaga to VakaFlaka
Papin vagabond mother's simpotyaga
The barbell to his chest thrust or thrust into his chest with mouthfuls
In the plastic moisture wish good
Papin vagabond mother's simpotyaga
I go to look at the building on the structure of
I am not alone with me, my bad mood
And I realized in the process of aging that I'm in the process of aging
Give me a pill that changed me
That I rejuvenated soul and not with the person
Date of birth is when something began
Or when a beginning of the end
I had forgotten a lot of things
While the years I drove on the Autobahn
And may I now worse than it was
But certainly better than I will
Children's joy gone somewhere for a long time
Family happiness you get caught me
I saw in a movie shoot film
But life is not seen in my life

I was my parents started
Fresh herbs like celery leaf
Not sure if I did not do
Like half the battle to have sex ideas
And no bastard from Bach
I put on the shirt guy shirt
I am going to the nats nats at the Poles
My size I of the nats in
A look bored white ceiling
And very much like that as in Danone advertising
White White did not proceed to our bottom trough
I'm not from the time of empty promises and rules
Going the way you look left to right
And I have long been of the earth would hapnul
Not applicable I taught my dad
And the smoke reaches the ceiling there
Fly by year
His years rushil without shame
And it means I shameless time vandal
And by 31 as a master of life hacking
And his head on the block did not cry
Said handsome said not so
Just my father's mother's handsome drifter