Luyện nghe bài hát Féck de Villchen

Fuck the I'm in Luxembourg for the buxom words
You must have 4i2i, de läb
When we bust a verse, you learn to love or love to
Discerning a dusty earn,
we the herbs head nodding like thunderbirds,
puppet nerds, sky get a muttered
and on mother earth, brother, uncle,
I I heard something stir London is burning, London 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 Langage, dee souguer d'Queen géing amuséieren.
Connectioun per Eurostar, Stonnen, sou schnell kann et goen,
lo däerfs de näischt méi soen, mär hu London virum stoen.
Mär zelebréiere eis Kampfkonscht am Hanfdonscht,
kreativ, jo nawell vill, mä net gesond fir d'Bronche.
Egal - einfach e Moment, den Alldag vergiessen,
si och, well si kréie mol Anstänneges ze friessen.
Mä Tea Time fällt aus, well am fléisst de Wäin,
bréngen iech frësch gehacktent Holz fir däi Kamäin.
Onkraut net, mä nee, et verbreet sech,
dofir dech, well eise Bësch wiisst dagdeeglech.

Fuck the birds, all to the nursery
My "Sourkraut" powerhouse out and out, pick a infant
Mix with a spittle and a speckled pilchard
"Feck de Villchen" cut and crush and pickle him
and whisk and filter dust until fettered tincture
Metal come 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 cast spelt arm or "sauce blanche"
All turns blanched, bleached crumbs on a earth
Mutton to the first bleed, sit and eat your glutton with the

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

4i2i, de läb, we got two on you guys
the writes 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 boop when I see I
for de läb in Lux fuck what you think is fucked
we're fuckin' sick as I fuckin' flip and spit and dump
acid on the tricks and chumps that's chatting
and spit in of batter when I scatter man
rap him up and slap a man violence im chattin' dan
London to Luxembourg stand up and the man that's doin' it big
and we ruin it for pricks
when we're man what is real flavours in your fizz
that's the bizz that we live in in the bits, it's a that we live in a prison
mind control and pessimism is in this system
I can see in the distance but it's still a fucking mission