When I laugh like this, in January, save me from the dungeon, don't make me cry, this is a joke. New year, new life, bitch, it's a joke, dabari, dabarai, I'm blue like Facebook. Dread jumps out of my boat, canoe, it's not for us two, I'm full with all this. To live is to transform, and you're standing, waiting for the plate, full of food, but it's dirt that you put inside your body. Yes, chemical, yes, it feeds the pig. Focinho lime gets dirty with more fat. It's trigo lime with flour in your pocket. The pecoxinho becomes a whole shell. The querolim, now it's kind of loose. You estimate, you ski with two asses, without bad wine, from the life of a carojo. You also know that pussy is a *** addiction, double meaning in this ***, boy. When you're there, you feel every movement, hot temperature, we take the judgment, boy. Slow beat, it always speeds up, empty your mind, you're giving this away, boy. The pleasure of it lights up and the bed feels that what involves people is magic. It's a moment where you're aware that it's always possible to heal any wound. Violent ***, different romantic, powerful intrigue, a cantica inana. And if it's opaque, share the stake in the heart of the vampire, which is a virus in the spirit of AK. What you take and keep, pretending to be a bandit, protected from the shots by guards. For what you kill, there are people like you who will never connect. I make the musume because you will connect. I'm fed up with fake sugar, feel the decalage. In ferruja, pillula, I don't want dorados. Men's dreams are not Antoran scenes. Open your eyes, catch the feathers that fall from the birds. Look at the blood of your people and write the truth. www.LRCgenerator.com