Luyện nghe bài hát Féck de Villchen

Fuck the birds I'm in Luxembourg for the buxom
You must have 4i2i, de läb
When we bust a verse, you learn to love or to learn
Discerning a dusty earn,
we burn the head nodding like thunderbirds,
nerds, sky get a muttered curse
and on earth, brother, uncle, merc
I swear I heard something stir London is burning, has burnt.
Douse it out in and wine
and lounge like clouds on floating skies
a page of painted ceiling, blaze an evening
Spit in "Minett" and the way a nation is speaking
"schnoory"

An allen Éieren, mär jongléieren, wa mär zirkuléieren,
mat engem kreéierte Langage, dee souguer géing amuséieren.
Connectioun per Eurostar, zwou Stonnen, sou kann et goen,
lo däerfs de näischt méi soen, mär hu London virum stoen.
Mär gekonnt eis Kampfkonscht am Hanfdonscht,
kreativ, jo nawell vill, mä net gesond fir d'Bronche.
- einfach e klenge Moment, den Alldag vergiessen,
si och, well si mol eppes Anstänneges ze friessen.
Mä Tea Time aus, well am Läb fléisst de Wäin,
mär bréngen iech gehacktent Holz fir däi Kamäin.
vergeet net, mä nee, et verbreet sech,
dofir free dech, well Bësch wiisst dagdeeglech.

Fuck the birds, all mothers to the
My "Sourkraut" powerhouse out and out, pick a peppered
Mix with a little spittle and a pilchard
Come "Feck de Villchen" cut and and pickle him
and whisk and dust until it's fettered tincture
Metal elixir petal tongue lift off
Drunk off of 6 drops a hymn to the "Gelle Fra"
her oracle, jump from the hollow tooth
Yelling notre dame "lutzenbursh" us up a curse
Spell spelt arm dough or "sauce blanche"
All turns blanched, crumbs on a buttered earth
Mutton to the bleed, sit and eat your glutton with the birdfeed

David
D'Zäit eng no vir, si mer e Schratt viraus,
fir e klenge Meeting mat Austausch.
Verluer an der Wüst, vun den Mënner,
gëff ons Waasser, well penne geschwënn all eis Sënner.
Am Keller gefaang, am gaang ze vergiessen,
vun Munchies, et gëtt vläit Zäit, eppes z'iessen.
D'ganzt Land schléift, mä dës dreift säin Onwiesen,
mär den Duerchbléck, well eis Aen, déi si gliesen.
A huet de Gong erklong fir d'Poete-Ronn,
an am hunn eis gespëtzten Zong an d'Bierelong d'Ronn gewonn, mäi Jong.
Mär briechen d'Monotonie, si fänkt un ze fachen,
a réieren am Dëppen, fir nei dran ze kachen.

4i2i, de läb, we got two on you guys
the truth itself when we cruise by on mics
and we're too high so and I'm who I am
loops by the zoot so zoop and it's boo yai yay
whoops did you see I say when I see I spray
bars for de läb in Lux fuck what you think is
fuckin' sick as fuck I fuckin' flip and spit and dump
acid on the tricks and that's chatting shit
and spit in of batter when I scatter man
rap him up and a man violence that im chattin' dan
London to Luxembourg stand up and salute the man doin' it big
and we will ruin it for
when we're showin' man what is real flavours in fizz
that's the that we live in in the bits, it's a given that we live in a prison
mind control and pessimism is persistent in system
I can see change in the but it's still a fucking mission