Music World
 
Исполнители:
 
 
 
English versionSwitch to English 
Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill


Информация
Откуда South Gate, California, United States
Жанры Hip-hop
Latin Rap
Rap Metal
Годы 1988—н.в.
Лейблы Columbia Records
Sony BMG Music Entertainment
Sony Music
Priority Records
Ruffhouse Records
См. также D12
Snoop Dogg
John Frusciante
Pearl Jam
Tom Morello
Rage Against the Machine
Soundgarden
Beastie Boys
House of Pain
Everlast
Sonic Youth
Deftones
Сайт Website
Состав
B-Real
DJ Muggs
Eric Bobo
Sen Dog
Бывшие участники
Mellow Man Ace



Music World  →  Тексты песен  →  C  →  Cypress Hill  →  Дискография  →  Black Sunday

Альбом Cypress Hill


Black Sunday (20.07.1993)
20.07.1993
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
Lock Down (interlude; instrumental)
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
. . .



I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!

Well that's the funk elastic, the blunt I twist it
The slamafied, bonafied funk on your discus
Oh, what you messed with, you got to bear witness
Catch a ho and another ho Merry Christmas
Yes I smoke shit, straight off the roach clip
I roach it roll the blunt at once to approach it
Forward motion make you sway like the ocean
The herb is more than just a powerful potion
What's the commotion, yo I'm not joking around
People learning about, what they're smoking
My oven is on high, when I roast the quail
Tell Bill Clinton to go and inhale
Exhale, now you felt the funk of the power
now feel the effects...

I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!
Yo hits from the bong
Yo hits from the bong
Yo hits from the bong
Yo hits from the from the bong from the bong
Yo hits from the bong
Yo hits from the from the bong from the bong

. . .



Let's kick it ese

COMMIN' OUT DA SLUMS!!!
It's da hoodlums
I'm pullin' my gat out on all you bums
So bring it on when you wanna come fight this
Outlaw, I'll kick ya like Billy Ray Cypress Hill
Kill, I'll bust that grill
Grab my gat, and load up the steel
And if you wanna get drastic
I'll pull out my blasted glock, automatic,
Synthetic material, bury your blocks-n-mortar
Headed down to da Mexican border
Smokin' that smellie, Northern Cali,
Gonna put a slug in Captain O'Malley
Ho, hum-Hear the gat come
Boooooommmmmm!
Let me see what you'll do when you're sent to kill a man
But I'll be damned if I don't take a stand
We ain't goin' out like that
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out!"
We ain't goin' out like that
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out!"
We ain't goin' out like that
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out!"
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out like that!"

I'm high strung
Click I'm sprung
'Cause I don't live on the hum-drum
Where I'm from the gats'll be smokin'
I'll be damned if ya think I'm jokin'
Know that I come with the static, erratic, .45 automatic
Screamin' at ya-the red lights beamin' at ya
No need to run after the punk-ass who'd run up to my crew
Dig the grave for the one who got played
Now he's under
Don't make me wonder why 'cause you'll testify
We ain't goin' out like that

I got to thinkin' "What the fuck is this?"
Lettin' you know I take care of business
Can I get a witness?
To verify when I'm to bring this style
That makes you ecstatic
Tragic, when I get a poof of the magic buddha
When I roll with my crew
I betcha one time can't find my hooda!
Hits'll be hitting with the belt unbuckled (I don't know this line)
Pig rollin' up but he ain't that subtle
Pulled to da curb
So we exchange a few words
But he got me stirred up
"Ought not to grab the handcuffs.
I'll huff-n-puff-n-blow ya head of!"
We ain't goin' out like that

EAT A BOWL OF DICK UP!! GEEEYEAH!!


(Final Speech)
Yeah takin' your disses and dissin' ya right back
This is the Cypress Hill crew, like main shit
Yo and I'm talk this damn rappa
Eat a bowl a dick up, there ya go my man over here
You can eat a bowl o' dick up too
Anybody else need from runnin' away

. . .



Who you tryin to get crazy with ese?
Don't you know I'm loco?

[B-Real]
To da one on da flamboyant tip
I'll just toss that ham in the fryin pan
like spam, get done when I come and slam
Damn, I feel like the Son of Sam
Don't make me wreck shit, hectic
Next get the chair got me goin like General Electric
Annnd, the lights are blinkin I'm thinkin
It's all over when I go out drinkin
Ohh, makin my mind slow
That's why I don't fuck with the big four-oh
Bro, I got ta' maintain
Cause a nigga like me is goin insane

[Chorus]
Insane in da membrane.. insane in da brain!
Insane in da membrane.. insane in da brain!
Insane in da membrane.. crazy insane, got no brain!
Insane in da membrane.. insane in da brain!

[Sen Dog]
Do my shit undercover now it's time for the blubba
blabber, to watch that belly get fatter
Fat boy on a diet, don't try it
I'll jack yo' ass like a looter in a riot
My shit's fat, like a sumo, slammin dat ass
Leavin yo' face in the grass
Cause you know, I don't take a duro, lightly
Punks just jealous cause they can't outwrite me
or kick that style, wicked, wild
Happy face nigga never seen me smile
Rip dat main=frame, I'll explain
A nigga like me is goin insane

[Chorus]

{*DJ Muggs cuts and scratches*}

[B-Real]
Like Louie Armstrong, played the trumpet
I'll hit that bong and break ya off somethin soon
I got ta get my props
Cops, come and try to snatch my crops
These pigs wanna blow my house down
Head underground, to the next town
They get mad when they come to raid my pad
and I'm out in the nine-deuce Cad
Yes I'm the pirate, pilot
of this ship if I get with the ultraviolet dream
Hide from the red light beam
Now do you believe in the unseen?
Look, but don't make you eyes strain
A nigga like me is goin insane

[Chorus]


. . .



Livin on phat pockets on flat wit tha gat
rollin around nine deuce cadillac
still got my homies to watch my back
and they'll smoke ya ass if ya wanna come chat
thats why some pigs an tha kids come sweatin they follow
a hollow point shell's hard ta swallow
why wallow when ya come ta roll on i put tha clip an dust
bring ya ass on,kickin dust on ya head as tha gatt busts
my grip surronded im about ta get rushed i brushed wit death
how many shells stuffed in my closet???

when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down)
when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down)
when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down)
when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (ya better be ready)

i told tha boyz get tha sawed off glock and tha rest of tha gats
as i strapped on tha bullet-proof vest
BOOM i think i got one to tha chest
hot damn I didn't want to kill a man shit
i still stand tall with tha hill clan ya'll better stand back
niggaz bout ta fall I'm comin out blastin like yosemite
sam get tha cheese an tha bread for tha ham

when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down)
when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down)
when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down)

. . .



"Oh yeah it is!"
"Colour is not important."
Lick a shot!
"Oh!"
Comin' at ya
"Fire!"

Zippedy do da, zippedy hey
Cried oh my, wanna get that punk with my AK
And get on the way
On a mission, puffin' on a fat ass jay
Prude! You can't hang
Flash back on the skills when I used to bang
On the corner
I'll warn ya
Gonna roll on ya
Fool
Hit ya with a golden rule
Don't turn your back on the street
When I hit that corner, feel the concrete
If ya push that by like nothin'
Watch me turn to a psycho all of a sudden
Blastin' at these fools with a passion
Look at the Glock when it's time for some action

Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm

Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm

Sunday morning
Wake up it's stormin'
Raindrops fallin' on my head it's pourin'
Cats an' dogs
Pigs in a wagon
Lookin' for the Afro - one that's saggin'
Scooby-Doo
An' fucked down too
Ploy me
Don't let your punk ass try me
Gonna take more
Then you better call your backup team
And wait for the crew
I'm the one flippin'
Keepin' the clip
On my hip an'
Just watch your back if you're slippin'
Oooo
Where did that .22
Come from
When the bullet past through my lung
I've lost my breath I'm winded
I've been hit, by a slug that wasn't intended
I hear thunder
I wonder
If a nigga like me's goin' under
Take a number!

Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm

Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm

Had a bad dream
Woke up in a casket
Now I can't even get back at the bastard
Bull-shit!
This pine box
Ain't strong enough to contain the Afro Marx
Critical bell rings
Snapped out the dream
What the fuck's up with the funny red beam
Pointin' at me
I got no strap G
What now: gotta duck, they're gonna gatt me
Bam, I feel numb
Where did the shotgun blast come from

Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm

Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!

. . .



On a chicken-hunt, huntin' for a chicken
Get paranoid when you hear my Glock clickin'
Speakin' to the punk that's tweakin'
With the bitch-ass styles I hit you like Deacon

Jones house, cough without the bones
I rolled ya up and smoked you like cones
Split the seed and grow you like clones
Don't start-me-up, cause I'm not the Rolling Stones
But I get stoned with a little help from my friends
With the (gubla), then I passed it round back to me again

I can make you famous like Amos
Same as the last punk, when I stuck the gatt up his anus
Hear me growl: Grrra! Howl!
I got the night vision just like the wise old owl

I'm comin' ta fetch ya
Yeah home direct ya
Bury them bones
Under my home and

Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!

Take my weapon, step into a whole new realm
And step back, as I take up the helm
On the pirate ship I'm steerin'
Droppin' the geran
Just realize what you're hearin'

The cannon sounded
That's my companion: surrounded
As my crew comes bounding
As the captain
Afro-america
Whole lotta gattin'
With the loc'ed out latin

Busted!
You're a red beard with a musket
Better talk quick 'cause ya might get dusted
Your gatt looks rusted, disgusted
Oh look away, look away boy as I rush it
Yes I know that you can't withstand it
Watch that ass cause punk I'll brand it

With a steel-toe, how you feel now
When my boot stuck in that ass like a dildo
Cry on a pillow, weeper that's willow
The Hill got the skill for the static like brillo

Hmmm, what you talkin' `bout punk
Gimme room as I light up the boom
Cock the hammer, wave the white banner
Ever heard a Glock go `click' like a camera?

Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!

Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!

. . .

Lock Down

[Нет текста]

. . .



"Live and direct"

One little two little three little putos
Tried to jack me they got the boot-o
Taking no shit when push comes to shove
'Cause the niggas showed me no love
Step back punk 'cause I'm a Latino
What I bring you is the hardcore lingo
Funky, but ya don't understand
Now I gotta stand with the Glock in my hand
No scope
And there's no hope
'Cause I'm dishin'
Out my .45 slug and it ain't missin'
Here it comes hissin'
Here it comes hummin' at ya
Now the slug is comin' at ya

One little two little three hoodlums
Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes
What do you know, click clack goes the gun
Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run

Cuando entro, loonie es el fuerte
Speakin' to the gente
'Cause I'm insane in the mente
Movin' em back, click-click goes the gun
Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run
It's no fun
When I got to break you off some
Of the psycobeta beatdown, boy you get done
Serio
Here we go
Off for the muchacho
Come if you really want some of the chingazo
Me caso you don't hear this little lazo
Cypress Hill, breaking you off a pedazo
Humming at ya
Don't make me come gatt ya
Punk 'cause I still will be comin' at ya

One little two little three hoodlums
Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes
What do you know, click clack goes the gun
Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run

When I come in, kickin' with a vengeance
Swift of the engines
Coming like the three little indians
Stompin' around on the ground on the plains
'Cause a nigga like me is goin' insane
In the brain
So I gotta maintain
My direction
What I mighta gained
Without my protection
Not a damn thing
So when I come just bring
That new style, break ya off like a chicken wing
Buckooock!!
So you can just suck my cock
Like a fat blunt, stoned is the way of the walk
When I'm peepin'
Checkin' out the punk-ass creepin'
I let the dogs loose then I let the dogs sick 'em
Graaah! Nigga don't make me catch ya
Punk 'cause I still will be comin' at ya

One little two little three hoodlums
Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes
What do you know, click clack goes the gun

. . .



Marajuana plant is a hemp plant
It's used for many other things than just smoking
One acre of hemp produces four times as much paper than an acre of trees
(Legalize it)
(Legalize it)
Pot herb marijuana
(Legalize it)
Every denomination every color every religion
(Legalize it)
George Washington grew hemp on his farm
(Legalize it)
That is just 1 1/12
I have given you all the seed bearing plants on earth to use

. . .



Hits From The Bong
Hits From The Bong
Hits From The Bong
Hits From The Bong

Pick it, pack it, fire it up, come aloooong
and take hits from the boooong
Put the blunt down just for a second
Don't get me wrong it's not a new method
Inhale, Exhale - just got a ounce in the mail
I like a blunt or a big fat coal
But my double barrel bong is gettin me stoned
I'm skill it, There's water inside don't spill it
It smells like shit on the carpet
Still it, goes down smooth when I get a clean hit
Of the skunky funky smelly green shit
Sing my song, puff all night long
As I take Hits from the bong...

Hits From The Bong y'all
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong

Let's smoke that bowl, hit the bong
And then take that finger off of that hole
Plug it, unplug it, don't straaaain
I love you Mary Jane
She never complains, when I hit Mary
With that flame, I light up the cherry
She's so good to me, when I pack a fresh bowl I clean the screen
Don't get me stirred up the smoke, through the bub-bling water
Is Makin' it pure so I got ta', take my hit and hold it
Just like Chong, I hit the bowl and I reload it
Get my four-footer and bring it on...
As I take Hits from the bong

Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?

Straighten your dick out...

. . .



Come on come on
(time for some action)
yeah yeah
(time for some action)
Come on come on
(time for some action)
yeah yeah
(time for some action)
Come on come on

Drunk ass fool
just a punk ass
gonna cause trouble
yeah let me burst that bubble
in a hurry
I ani't happy
so worry
what's a judge
and a punk ass jury
homeboy
Should I'm done to go home
but ya got caught up inside the cyclone
If I go home
I'll get slopped and stoned
When I disconnnect that
fuckin neck bone
WATA!
Then ya get the kick to jaw kid
And I rip out ya eyelids
So you can see
The head nigger at it
killa
Commin when I break on the static

What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around

Shit
I get real shit
yo shit
can ya feel it
Carbon copy come steal it
The gatt I conceal it
Under my jacket
Oh where oh where
Do ya think I pack it
Under my belt
when the cards get dealt
to all the players
And though the punk ass fakers
just come
And ya get the high pitched humm
Make ya understand where I'm from
The eastside brown
kid looks around
Put's down tump
it must fall down
It's on
when ya wanna take my pound
punk
what go around come around

What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around

(time, time for some action)
check me and I'll check you back
(time, time for some action)
check me and I'll check you back

When they come
with the staic cling
it's not thing
Make ya sing the blues
like B.B. King
I got the roughneck scales
To give awhile
Like a voodoo child
Nuthin but style
Take it
But you can see the black glock clickin
Point my gatt
at the punk ass victims
Step up
Or you can step back
though the doors
You can bring it on
if ya wanna come get yours
But ya betta look ova ya shoulda
Cuz a loss of blood gets the body much colder

What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around

(time, time for some action)
check me and I'll check you back
(time, time for some action)
check me and I'll check you back
(time, time for some action)
check me and I'll check you back


. . .


from "White Men Can't Rap" soundtrack

[B-Real]
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A to the motherfuckin K (to the what?)
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A to the motherfuckin K

One, life had begun for the ruffneck
kid who was gonna put niggaz in check
EIGHTEEN, G, for the green
OBSCENE, and it's for the time being
I'm pickin nine, hell I'm out to get mine
and pick two homies, three com-bine
Next thing you know, jump in the six-fo'
Get out, cock the hammer, then kick down the do'

A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!)
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A to the motherfuckin K (motherfuckin K?!)
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!)
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A TO THE MOTHERFUCKIN K

[Sen Dog]
Couple niggaz from the Eastside, headed EastBOUND
Lookin for a pound, to haul around town
Here comes a clown, I gotta hold my ground
Hear the slug comin, when it come you fall down
BUCKDOWN, dead sound, that's what you found
That's what you get when you fuck the BROWN
DOG, Sen is comin, to the mound
La Vida from Cypress, rips your compound
Shit gets deep, eight niggaz on the ground
What do you know? What - go ah-round come around!
Six for the pig, and his punk hound
Hail to the king pig, or you get CROWNED
Or better yet, I'll roll you up like a fat J

[B-Real]
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!)
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A to the motherfuckin K (motherfuckin K?!)
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!)
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A TO THE MOTHERFUCKIN K

It's gonna be on.. it's gonna be on..
(It's gonna be on.. GOIN ON!)
It's gonna be on.. it's gonna be on..
(It's gonna be on.. GOIN ON!)
It's gonna be on.. it's gonna be on..
(It's gonna be on.. GOIN ON!)

[B-Real]
Gimme that WEED fool and all your loot too
I got a nigga in the back and the blunt for your crew
Loaded and cocked for any hardrock
If you're takin my weed, I'm takin over your spot
Keep your face down as I take your pound
Don't let me see nobody get up, just hug the ground
(STAY STILL) And don't make a sound
as I get out the door, headed Eastbound
But, why did the fool try to act brave? (act brave)
Clip from the nine equals six to the grave

A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!)
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A to the motherfuckin K (motherfuckin K?!)
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy
A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!)
A to the motherfuckin K homeboy

. . .



cypress hill
cypress hill
cypress hill

Crusing through the neighborhood
Some say I'm no good
Claimin I'm a criminal
But lets make it understood
Just one man man with a whole lot of homeboys (whole lot)
Ya get the click of the glock
When I pull of the chrome toy
Check me and I'll check you back (check you back)
Then jump back
to my big Buddah
like I'm not a bad guy
But don't take advantage
I'm throwin out the garbage
just show me where the can is
All I was doin was searchin for the boon
Then some punk tried to hit me with a broom
Lucky I ducked quick
Or else I'd be assed up
Last thing I wanted
was have to pull the gatt out
here comes a nigga
And he's got a .38
Well my roundhouse said
hey yo
I'm shootin up straight

Cuz I put away the shotgun
borrow me a glock
Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot
tried to jack me
but home got shot
la-la-la-lalala-la!

Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)

Couple niggas from the east side
fuckin up ya program
No one witnissed
But they heard the gun blast
It left the problem unsolved
now I'm gonna sum up
people gettin hurt in the process of the come up
Gotta with the fools
That'll wait for you to run up
Rollin in the hood
That's already shot up
Pocket full of gatts
And see if we can spot the
Homey that's slick
In the process of the dip
When we find this out
Gonna unload the clip!

And take a little trip down to Rio
My neighboorhood's hot and so
I gots to go chill

Cuz I put away the shotgun
borrow me a glock
Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot
tried to jack me
but home got shot
la-la-la-lalala-la!

Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)

Kickin' that funky Cypress Hill shit
Think I'll load a clip
Lets see if you can deal with
Cuz the bulletproof vest ain't shit
When the infrared's
pointin at your head kid
And that's just to bad yo
Now I'm headed up a river in a boat
with no paddle
Shoulda put the glock down (glock down)
Now they got me in lock down
livin' like a nigga whose done lost his mind
Cuz self defense turns to the offense
But nobody even really knows that (knows that)
All they see is me and the gatt
Up in the court room
Lookin at the jury
Starin down the punk ass
district attourney
la-la-la-la-lala-la!
Verdict's in
You're not guilty as charged

When I put away my shotgun
borrow me a glock
Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot
tried to jack me
but home got shot
la-la-la-lalala-la!

Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)


. . .



This one goes out to all you punk motherfuckers out there
Yeah, eat a bowl of dick'up fools!
Do ya wanna get crazy?
Commin atcha in 93'!

Through the car swings
The fireing pins go click
when I duck behind the trash bin
Ran out
of ammo no doubt
my gatt is dry like a fuckin drought
got to make my way home
hit the gate and get my chrome
god damn this song
they got me cornered
lemme just warn ya
I'll pull this trigga make your family mourn'ya
Boo-hoo!
where ya gonna run to
when I pull out the scooby do
run
let me break ya off some
hit the floor cuz it aint no fun
but here they come
they must wanna get done
No frontin'
punk I'll break ya off somethin!

1 2 3 that coppa goes down!
(break'em off some)

what the fuck I'm rollin
in a mack truck that's stolin
guess what I'm holdin
ammmo to bust my load
still I'm easin on down
The yellow brick road

Whatta ya know?
A pig in a plain brown wrapper
He wanna bring me down
I'll hit that corna
Lemme just warn ya
I'll bring ya ass down
make ya family mourn ya
21 gun saloot
trying to take my loot
don't make me shoot
I'll hit my blunt
and pass you a load
And punk
let me break ya of something

(break em' off some)

I got to roll with the self control
In the green tank
when the shit unfolds
hold up
I got it sewn up
me and my niggas
Are about to blow up
Got the pigs on my tail
What they get
is the hollow point shell
Caught in the sail
Servin my sentence
Got my apprentice
In the hood
But the nigga is senseless

Out on parol
Now the nigga has turned to my fold
Now the punk gotta go
That punk got shady
Woudn't repay me
Let the punk know that ya still can't fade me
Maybe the fucker would stop
But nuthin would stop me
from havin to break'em off something

On to the next spot kid
(break'em off some)
We ain't havin it yall
Ya know what I'm talkin bout
I'm about to break your ass of some'n!
Commin from a whamm-o

. . .


Смотри также:

комментарии публикуются при поддержке Disqus



© 2011 Music World. Все права сохранены.