Текст песни Прыгай Мц Писка - THRILL

Football on the background,
I'm all on the phone
Dialed the number
And call HOMIE
Butterfly Knife, Tommy
Chill'im on the district
Twisted, swore
Your bandle is in a coma
My lala in Stone
Smoked, buried
Our entire staff is half a ton
Covering Waves
Charging THOMPSON
Local Mafiosi
My plan is grand
On the graves of roses
There are only tears on my cheeks
Suddenly the stars went out
These are all acids, but not those
Stay, Bitch, in the dark;
You were looking for the meaning of the wrong ones
I came with the thought of success
The fruit of your pleasures
Again with someone is a sin
I'm not glad to see you
You are someone's slave
Listen to my rap
There is even a vibe
To communicate with you, I don't need Skype
Well, dare to WAZZUP
Answer in WHATSAPP
I send one punchline to Hell