Luyện nghe bài hát Féck de Villchen

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

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

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

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

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