Hey dispatch, I'm stuck on a social network Thirty-three in the aquarium, all good, like an old man I spit their scars, if not from bullets Listen, they'll shoot you Many of them will pay for what? Only for what the dog learned It's like a friend, but the dog sniffs The form of the gaze will swallow him You will know in the spring that there is a storm I twisted my ass again Where are we going? Don't pour it, or I'll let out my teeth We are here because we love culture We catch the buzz, who is dancing I got him, I beat you, my bae Big Buddha in the ring, Batalonia Inside the water, but he rolls somewhere So far, bro, you hear what salary Crawling up the rope Blue blood is my barbatos I want to go to Vambatos Here I teleported straight from Atlanta Zone Sixty, break through like a ram Hey, I'm not alone There are pills next to me, but no one I'm lazy again, I twist the smoke I believe in myself and walk barefoot There is no way out, but I'm not asleep at all I whisper and whine, you are the crown and the top Everything is empty, the store But one bullet is hidden, son Again at night I fly up to Michael He realized something, but again I'm fresh Sent a designer without instructions I went through the details It turned out, well here's a bunch of extra buds Again at night I fly up to Michael He realized something, but again I'm fresh I sent a designer without instructions ... It turned out, well ... Hey dispatcher I'm stuck on a social elevator Life is a series of events It's a crowd of men who want to knock you down And make you in one of their native events In the morning I flew out of the house I was born in a tank mode I'm shaking my mind at you But dressed inside out I'm powerless She was always there After all, I'm not the same as before Tell me what the underground hatches are hiding Show me what cavemen are drawing I will become what will be someday on a plate I set fire to what burns my hands Tell me what the underground hatches are hiding Show me what cavemen are drawing I will become what will be someday on a plate I set fire to what burns my hands Again at night I fly up to the T-shirt I thought I understood something, but again I'm fresh I sent a designer without instructions ... It turned out, well ... ... Again at night I fly up to the T-shirt I thought I understood something, but again I'm fresh I sent a designer without instructions ... It turned out, well ... ...