There were many brave cowboys,
Where they are now, here, believeВ me,
Do you read the Koran, do you honor Krishna,
do you observe the Bible or the Torah?
You’re a Buddhist, you go to all the temples,
Anyway, I’ll be right, of course,
There are the living, there are the dead, Prado,
There are aВ lot ofВ other brands,
Don’t forget the live ones,
We still have buckshot inВ our guns.
The most important thing is not toВ waste everything,
Put everything on the cherished right goal,
Wait for luck, it will be hard, but you are alive,
And alive, you’re better than dead, light it up.
There is no place for the living, inВ the kingdom ofВ the saints,
They are icons, and not inВ theВ gut,
You can hit them if you can see their eyes,
Don’t blink, feel twice,
Be sure ofВ your own example,
You find your way while you’re here,
While you’re awake, you go ahead,
But you’ll be set in stone if it comes,
Success and money, fame fuse,
Hit the target and take it, you are not lost.
You’re not guarding the chief
You’re not protecting the boss,
The apple ofВ yourВ eye,
God you guard the camp,
So there will be nothing.
You’re not protecting the boss,
So there will be no one withВ him,
You’re protecting your name
,so you’re a hoo-hoo.
You’re not protecting the boss,
Machine gunner, smuggler,
If anything, call me,В bro,
You’re an imperialist.
You’re not protecting the boss,
So you’re like a beautiful psycho,
InВ the rear ofВ the bandits is aВ diamond,
Just like inВ the picture, the strongest.
Pasha got up on the clock
Pasha got up on the clock,
They’re like a Mazda,
You hear the engine, andВ wah,
What is the basis for everything there?
If they twist Pasha’s hands,
Natasha won’t help either,
And we guys, inВ general,
We look at it through the Kalash.
If there are any problems there,
We don’t need polemics,
Solve them yourself, Nastya willВ say,
We’re sharper than a pencil.
When sudarushka arrives,
The fate ofВ his suit is black,
Then you’ll get a pretty penny,
And toВ our hut prelai.
Letter
AВ cold email,
There are only lines ofВ pain inВ it,
AВ feather is stuck inВ my heart,
It oozes blood,
And if you will,
He won’t come back,
I’m sorry, but we have stenches,
Like the marshes at the head ofВ theВ bed.
Believe it orВ not,
But there are many turfs inВ life,
And if inВ the dawn ofВ years,
You’re your own man, believe me.
When it arrives,
Only the north will saveВ me,
And if you’re safe,
It will only be clover.
Watchdog
Your nickname, ofВ course, is Watchdog,
Fits your collar,
You’re torn and I want to let go,
But you’re not coming back bandit bos,
I’ll let you go, but only for a moment,
If you run away, you’ll want to eat.
When you come back, IВ know where toВ look forВ you,
