Офицеры, офицеры, ваше сердце под прицелом. За Россию и свободу до конца. Офицеры, россияне, пусть свобода воссияет, Заставляя в унисон звучать сердца. Офицеры, офицеры
На лице много пудры, ты похожа на дуру, Он не стал тебя трогать, целовать тебя в губы, Ты хотела к нему, чтоб обняться как прежде, Быть опять под крылом
а лице много пудры, ты похожа на дуру Он не стал тебя трогать, целовать тебя в губы Ты хотела к нему, чтоб обняться как прежде Быть опять под крылом и
Дороги в золоте, прогулочки на холоде Здоровый сон, выпивка, суета в городе, Тропинки в парке и свежий воздух с леса, Радует глаз, обливая кровью сердце
Дэссар... Рус рэп бэтл раунд 3 Гвардейский белый офицер, андреев крест заплечный Наган и конь готовы, чтож терять нечего Бесчестием пропитан флаг ваш
It all started late on a Saturday night Said who?s got the spliffs and who?s got the pint Look out the window said to my surprise Here comes the man in
Hey you Who me, Officer Krupke? Yeah you, gimme one good reason for not dragging You down the station, ya punk? Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke, you gotta
Late in the night he woke to a phone call. They'd found a device and it was unstable. They'd thrown a cordon and evacuated. The cool courage of bomb squad
I was an optimist once I scoured the streets to find tree lined parking spots Until and officer stopped We argued a bit and then I finally understood
Why do you have to force yourself with power and control Why do you have to live your life playing up a role Intimidating people with your wall of sight
Hey... Hey... Yeah Hey... Yeahh Hey, Hey, Hey (Valentino) Woo, Woo, Wooo... (Yeah, Yeahh)... Yea, Yea, Yeaa (Yeah, Yeahh) Woo, Woo, Wooo... (Yeah)...
You Think You Kno Me (Officer Ricky ) Nigga You Dont Kno Me (Officer Ricky) (50 ayo C-O) (Verse 1) I put a razor through your face Put a nine on my waist
ACTION Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke, You gotta understand, It's just our bringin' up-ke That gets us out of hand. Our mothers all are junkies, Our
Yo, fat lip man Yo, man they tryin? to run a 5-0 move on us man Yo, man You got to tell the suckers what?s up boy Yeah I got a letter from the DMV the
Forty below, driving on deathly icing roads Back seat is full of clothes, I gotta talk this over Run out of gas, wake a stranger up to fill my tank In
Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke You gotta understand It's just our bringin' upke That gets us out of hand Our mothers all are junkies Our fathers all are
Salt-n-pepa, left eye, etc. (appears on the songs of west side story) Excuse me mr. officer You think we're bad, huh? You wanna clean up the streets
