Текст песни Чемодан - В Голову

Brick Bazuka

Bullets in a cage , not whine - it does not hurt .
You sing to me yet , you hear the voices of the underground ?
I smoldering nuclear reactor in his hand ,
You've got your nose in the flour and the foot on the heel .
Hey, feisty smell brings a bouquet
Aphids, in the mist of the fire four missiles.
On the hand wearing brass knuckles, the sky will forgive you
Jack passed by then you do not treat you .
Wake up in anticipation of spring.
Advertising - the engine of progress , we are the children of her .
Cast a spell over my world with an indisputable fact .
I'm not your idol, just vkurivay my thoughts .
People have become imaginary , we got rules.
We get the trunks and it is time to throw .
The world and all its smoke is legal
Who would not pizdel , repchik is an underground .

dirty Louis

And I still believe in E. coli and other bifidobacteria
Less people in the tele with young
Marilee were measuring and still pointed at his head .
There are bad intentions and the guys on the measurements.
For daring proposition believed me .
I wander through the channels in search advertising
TV - serial killer for Mom.
Something hammer membrane plus something in Bongo.
We fuck it * delta * or group prodlenki .
Her thick or thin
we hardly yuzali diaper , but found the diaper .
Nothing to do with the one who at the bottom of the pockets
New smoke, but there are already living addicts .
We mammoths and we go and soon die out ,
In the twelfth year in a McDonald's throwing up all over the world