You gotta turn off your imagination And tell to the crowd "Now it doesn't in fashion!" You've won only smoke and suffocation "So let you die" it's end of the collocation.
Show me your money, Gravedigger is doesn't a toy You thought "He's just a child" Whatever, you know.
You've borrowed some money And didn't hurry up to give it back, And now he's burying you, With the axe in the back.
It doesn't fashion, It's just a system of life, List of the simple rules Which you, of course, disdain.
You thought you're better And made a mistake So pay the bills And try your ache.
In this situation you're aggressor In another one you're whipper-snapper, In the kindergarten you're God and the boss But in the real fight you have only loss.
Gotta again FUCk Try my tears FUCK Sucks Are fucked In the mouth Bloody smack