Скриптонит запах из детства текст песни

Обновлено: 04.10.2024

[Hook]
Я хапаю пару жирных хапок
Я хватаю ртом снежинки,Папа
Мусора кого-то ищут, и сирены кричат что кто-то ляжет на пол
Пока я пытаюсь уловить тот самый запах из детства
Я хапаю пару жирных хапок
Я хватаю ртом снежинки ,Папа
Мусора кого-то ищут, и сирены кричат что кто-то ляжет на пол Пока я пытаюсь уловить тот самый запах из детства Sagging by the window, I still catch a hat and after my ass catches a chair
I stood at the TV and I was so interested-
Bright colors, happiness in the eyes. What kind of singer, Mom?
And I'm already with a jamb, and easily broke into this kingdom
As if not like everyone else, the whole family
Mom wants to talk, and I look at the wall pictures from childhood
I earn by saying that I’m talking about myself.
Well, soon we will forget about the debts and the need for tenge, finally
Your fantasy world is bespont
In my childhood, it seemed to me that my daddy despot
Despot, with warm socks flew into the port again
And there is not a drop do not hesitate to communicate closely
I need a billboard, because I am more than a league in his best years
When there was a requiem, Mom had a birth
I remember how you laugh at me
When we weren’t in fashion like iPods
So right here through the years
I know I killed you - fall!

[Hook]
I grab a pair of fat hats
I gasp snowflakes, Dad
Trash someone, and the sirens scream that someone will lie on the floor
While I try to catch that same smell from childhood
I grab a pair of fat hats
I gasp snowflakes, Dad
They are looking for rubbish, and sirens scream that someone will lie on the floor while I try to catch the very smell from childhood

[Verse 2: Scriptonite]
Someone is making noise. Well, buttery is about to sit on the pipe.
And I couldn’t let go of these shots
Just trying to catch up with that level of happiness and in the gap, Stupid, I throw to the corns jabbed desks on the loops
Day fast as Formula1
Night is all home and I'm alone
scotch tape pours and smells nicotine
Just like when Dad left
Away. From home. It was to them, to the bitches, as if he did not care that he had a Son
Your daughter is not my own, but I loved and love her
We are your children, we are dust
And dos scolds that I'm blue again
Dos scolding me for being fucked up
And I'll just ask along the way to catch my whitefish
And do not care that it’s just smoked and doesn’t even smell like Hip-Hop
Some of the guys will scream again under my window: ,, Adika ''
Shiga smokes in the face and I wildly want
Orange sunset like nine, love like seventeen
Do not hold the joint, but smile
And inhale a new smell so quietly, slowly

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