How many fools can i degrade today,
They don't read this text every day.
You can find my poetry,
In your mother's laundry.
What you lookin'at,bitch?
It's my poetic job.
From Rubtsovsk to New York,
Spread my poetic works,
You can see them here,
And repost to you group.
I shoot my rhyme,
In your mother anus.
I skilled poetry,
And google it knows,
Translate words there,
Because I'm the boss.
You can't stop to me,
And my gang!
Dima Panin samogon lider,
Want to check!
I'll get my face on the dollar,
After, this shit's done.
English Poetry
© Copyright: Весёлый Самогонщик, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112122510569
Свидетельство о публикации №112122510569
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