Pussycat Dolls, Beyonce, Rihanna, Akon, Chris Brown все таки лучше чем там придыдушие рок слушают, вроде как r n b ближе к рэпу

английская альтернатива и рок

хк,дескор,металкор

фанк джаз, и ска

bump!!hahaThe poor are very wonderful people. One evening we went out and we picked up four people from the street. And one of them was in a most terrible condition?and I told the sisters: You take care of the other three. I take care of this one who looked worse. So I did for her all that my love can do. I put her in bed, and there was such a beautiful smile on her face. She took hold of my hand as she said just the words “thank you” and she died. I could not help but examine my conscience before her and I asked what would I say if I was in her place. And my answer was very simple. I would have tried to draw a little attention to myself. I would have said I am hungry, that I am dying, I am cold, I am in pain, or something, but she gave me much more-she gave me her grateful love. And she died with a smile on her face. As did that man whom we picked up from the drain half eaten with worms, and we brought him to the home. “I have lived like an animal in the street, but I am going to die like an angel, loved and cared for.” And it was so wonderful to see the greatness of that man who could speak like that, Information on the cheapest place to buy your Final Fantasy XI Gil. Never over pay for your FFXI GIL again. Top currency FFXI Gil service providers listed showing final fantasy gil, We work hard to offer the lowest prices of warcraft gold, buy wow power leveling cheap wow gold here.. who could die like that without blaming anybody, without cursing anybody, without comparing anything. Like an angel-this is the greatness of our people. And that is why we believe what Jesus had said: I was hungry, I was naked, I was homeless, I was unwanted, unloved, uncared for, and you did it to me.

Драм-н-басс и регги

I first heard this story a few years ago from a girl I had met in New York's Greenwich Village. Probably the story is one of those mysterious bits of folklore that reappear every few years, to be told a new in one form or another. However, I still like to think that it really did happen, somewhere, sometime.??They were going to Fort Lauderdalethree boys and three girls and when they boarded the bus, they were carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags, dreaming of golden beaches as the gray cold of New York vanished behind them.??As the bus passed through New Jersey, they began to notice Vingo. He sat in front of them, dressed in a plain, ill-fitting suit, never moving, If you need sell cheap wow gold,you can buy wow power leveling on the website: buy wow gold, cheap WoW Power Leveling, sale wow Gold, 1-80 lvl wow power leveling, wotlk gold. his dusty face masking his age. He kept chewing the inside of his lip a lot, frozen into some personal cocoon of silence.??Deep into the night, outside Washington, the bus pulled into Howard Johnson's, and everybody got off except Vingo. He sat rooted in his seat, and the young people began to wonder about him, trying to imagine his life: perhaps he was a sea captain, a runaway from his wife, an old soldier going home. When they went back to the bus, one of the girls sat beside him and introduced herself.??“We're going to Florida,” she said brightly.“ I hear it's really beautiful.”??“It is, ” he said quietly, as if remembering something he had tried to forget.??“Want some wine?” she said. He smiled and took a swig. He thanked her and retreated again into his silence. After a while, she went back to the others, and Vingo nodded in sleep.??In the morning, they awoke outside another Howard Johnson's,and this time Vingo went in. The girl insisted that he join them. He seemed very shy, and ordered black coffee and smoked nervously as the young people chattered about sleeping on beaches. When they returned to the bus, the girl sat with Vingo again, and after a while, slowly and painfully, he told his story. He had been in jail in New York for the past four years, and now he was going home.??“Are you married?”??“I don't know.”??“You don't know?” she said.??“Well, when I was in jail I wrote to my wife,” he said. “ I told her that I was going to be away a long time, and that if she couldn't stand it, if the kids kept asking questions, if it hurt too much, well, she could just forget me, I'd understand. Get a new guy, I saidshe‘s a wonderful woman,really somethingand forget about me. I told her she didn't have to write me for nothing. And she didn‘t. Not for three and a half years.”??“And you're going home now, not knowing?”??“Yeah,” he said shyly. “ Well, last week, when I was sure the parole was coming through, I wrote her again. We used to live in Brunswick, just before Jacksonville, and there's a big oak tree just as you come into town. I told her that if she'd take me back, she should put a yellow handkerchief on the tree, and I'd get off and come home. If she didn't want me, forget itno handkerchief, and I'd go on through.”??“Wow,” the girl exclaimed. “Wow.”??She told the others, and soon all of them were in it, caught up in the approach of Brunswick, looking at the pictures Vingo showed them of his wife and three children. The woman was handsome in a plain way, the children still unformed in the much-handled snapshots.??Now they were 20 miles from Brunswick, and the young people took over window seats on the right side, waiting for the approach of the great oak tree. The bus acquired a dark, hushed mood, full of the silence of absence and lost years. Vingo stopped looking, tightening his face into the ex-con's mask, as if fortifying himself against still another disappointment.??Then Brunswick was ten miles, and then five. Then,suddenly, all of the young people were up out of their seats, screaming and shouting and crying, doing small dances of joy. All except Vingo.??Vingo sat there stunned, looking at the oak tree. It was covered with yellow handkerchiefs20 of them, 30 of them, maybe hundreds, a tree that stood like a banner of welcome billowing in the wind. As the young people shouted, the old con rose and made his way to the front of the bus to go home

Trip-Hop,Jazz,Ambient,Easy Listening,Dub,Lounge,Psychodelic

максим, фабрика, виа гра, задорожная, газманов...ну вообщем много ещё всяких

Linkin Park,Good Charlotte,Klaxons,Green Day, ну это еще не все но основное

днб

Эми Ли

ничего

-Originally Posted by oBe#1

ничего

признак либо ограниченности, либо малого возраста (13+/-2 года)

Транс и ЛП!

Ария, Мастер, Metallica.
Олд скул метал это заебись

trance(dark)
Hardcore
d'n'b

Alphaville, Bee-Gees (всякая ретро хрень), ну, хз, бывают треки которые нравятся из трэнса

чисто не могу сказать что меня прет только рэп или только рок и т.д из каждого жанра поди могу выделить то что мне по душе

Драмбас
Транс
Регги

планчек и водачка

раммштайн, система, и вообще потяжелее)

dfm

Hardcore

альтернатива