Lyrics Ноггано - Черний пистолет

"Son, you have a birthday two days later, my mother and I have been thinking seriously, to give you." Maybe a moped, I do not know, a bicycle, maybe a computer, maybe I do not know what you want my son? - No, I do not need, in short, no computers, no mopeds, no bicycles. - And what do you want son? "I want a black gun." - Black what?!?!

Bratuha fit a black pistol on dnyuhu,
Black pistol, black pistol.
There where the most heaped up document does not roll.
A black pistol, a black pistol.
When the last argument was exhausted in the bazaar.
A black pistol, a black pistol.
Black pistol, it's a black pistol.
Black pistol, it's a black pistol.

Coupe, in a black Audi-TT coupe, on the steering wheel a friend.
Kupe with Nintendo on the trumpet,
Alle-alle, the bazaar on the cipher,
I'll be there, scribble the numbers.
A black pistol refreshes your lower back.
What kind of bird are you, time will be explained,
Time bitter cold bitches, kyuschok smokes.
The girl is lazy, playing a rap killer.
The capital is certainly not Ibiza,
But there is an even mazulah to the rascals to unwind,
Maybe I'm not a glamorous esthete,
White mache, black pistol,
My verse is almost finished.
A whole packet flew through the pipette,
While I'm intact and other goals there.
Helps to stay afloat a black pistol.

Bratuha fit a black pistol on dnyuhu,
Black pistol, black pistol.
There where the most heaped up document does not roll.
A black pistol, a black pistol.
When the last argument was exhausted in the bazaar.
A black pistol, a black pistol.
Black pistol, it's a black pistol.
Black pistol, it's a black pistol.

Black pistol, black Escalade, answer for authority.
From the package to the panel, the Colombian Marafet.
What do you have in mind? I squeeze a black pistol,
Street, lantern, to meet a drunken cop.
He's got a gun, you've got a gun.
He has a document - you have a borzoi force.
Without warning - Fuck!
The fucking pump!
Eight bullets, nine grams.
Straight there is a tram-ta-ta-ta-there.
In primetime hi news, baby dont cry, I will not be back,
Boltani this gangster blues.
Russian roulette, street games, no russ.
On the table there is a bottle of vodka, a pack of cigarettes,
White Colombian and fucking black gun.
Bratuha fit a black pistol on dnyuhu.

Bratuha fit a black pistol on dnyuhu,
Black pistol, black pistol.
There where the most heaped up document does not roll.
A black pistol, a black pistol.
When the last argument was exhausted in the bazaar.
A black pistol, a black pistol.
Black pistol, it's a black pistol.
Black pistol, it's a black pistol.

I love the black pistol,
I want a black gun,
To have a black pistol, a black pistol

I love the black pistol,
I want a black gun,
To have a black pistol,

H-h-h-black pistol

Bratuha fit a black pistol on dnyuhu,
Black pistol, black pistol.
There where the most heaped up document does not roll.
A black pistol, a black pistol.
When the last argument was exhausted in the bazaar.
A black pistol, a black pistol.
Black pistol, it's a black pistol.
Black pistol, it's a black pistol.