ССАНЫЕ ТВАРИ КАК ЖЕ ВЫ ЗАЕБАЛИ

КТО ТО МУТ УЖЕ РАСКИДАЛ

ССАНЫЕ ТВАРИ,КАК ЖЕ ВЫ ЗАЕБАЛИ,Я ХОЧУ ПОБЕДИТЬ. ДАУН НА МИДЕ,СНИЗУ КЕРРИ НАФИДИЛ,И ЕБАНЫЙ ЛЕСНИК.

серёга пират  пид р vk.com/piratsky_public

Серега Пират - 14 Лет

Серёга пират - на ластпик берёшь саппорта

Пару проебал(2013) - Серега пират

СЕРЕГА ПИРАТ - НУ ГДЕ МОЯ НОГА (prod. gaxillic)

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Серега Пират - World of Dota

перега надристав хайпа

Серега Пират - Я Как Во Сне (speed up version)

NORMAN - ГИМН СЕРЕГИ ПИРАТА

Out in the heart of Borgoman's cold rust
An old plant creaks under decades of dust
Where pork slabs arrive in a questionable state
Bound for a can with a fate to await

Gray market lard, we make it fine
Just past the law, but it’s all by design

In the Factory of Lard, where the rules don’t apply
With a vinegar sting that’ll burn out your eye
We melt it, we can it, no standards in sight
In that haven of lard in the dead of the night

Old vats stained with memories of meals
Cracked enamel hides all the rusted seals
Purified through a dusty AC filter
Cans sealed by hands with a questionable shiver

No papers here, we got no shame
Gray market lard, it’s a filthy game

In the Factory of Lard, where the rules don’t apply
With a vinegar sting that’ll burn out your eye
We melt it, we can it, no standards in sight
In that haven of lard in the dead of the night

The workers wear masks that don’t fit right
One man checks cans with a shake and a slight
If it sloshes or rattles, we’ll set it aside
But if it’s silent, it’s pure pork pride

Hand-labeled cans, in re-used boxes
With “Deluxe Organic,” despite all the toxins

In the Factory of Lard, where the rules don’t apply
With a vinegar sting that’ll burn out your eye
We melt it, we can it, no standards in sight
In that haven of lard in the dead of the night

We’re gray market proud with a hint of a sneer
Blame all the fumes, but we keep it sincere
No laws could bind what we cook in The Tub
Just pork in a can, for the low and the grubbed

Gray market rules, in secret we thrive
Where ethics are loose, but the lard stays alive

In the Factory of Lard, where the rules don’t apply
With a vinegar sting that’ll burn out your eye
We melt it, we can it, no standards in sight
In that haven of lard in the dead of the night

Where the vats hum low and the law takes flight
In the shadows, we churn, ‘til the morning light

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