Féck De Villchen Lyrics - De Läb

Gluvs: 

Fuck the birds I'm in Luxembourg for the buxom words 

You must have heard 4i2i, de läb 

When we bust a verse, you learn to love or love to learn 

Discerning from a dusty earn, 

we burn the herbs head nodding like thunderbirds, 

puppet nerds, sky get a muttered curse 

and on mother earth, brother, uncle, merc 

I swear I heard something stir London is burning, London has burnt. 

Douse it out in coke and wine 

and lounge about like clouds on floating skies 

Make a page of painted ceiling, blaze an evening 

Spit in "Minett" and change the way a nation is speaking 

"schnoory" 

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Corbi: 

An allen Éieren, mär jongléieren, wa mär d'Wierder zirkuléieren, 

mat engem kreéierte Langage, dee souguer d'Queen géing amuséieren. 

Connectioun per Eurostar, zwou Stonnen, sou schnell kann et goen, 

lo däerfs de näischt méi soen, mär hu London virum Mikro stoen. 

Mär zelebréiere gekonnt eis Kampfkonscht am Hanfdonscht, 

kreativ, jo nawell ganz vill, mä net gesond fir d'Bronche. 

Egal - einfach e klenge Moment, den Alldag vergiessen, 

si och, well si kréie mol eppes Anstänneges ze friessen. 

Mä Tea Time fällt aus, well am Läb fléisst de Wäin, 

mär bréngen iech frësch gehacktent Holz fir däi Kamäin. 

Onkraut vergeet net, mä nee, et verbreet sech, 

dofir free dech, well eise Bësch wiisst dagdeeglech. 

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Mowgli: 

Fuck the birds, all mothers to the nursery 

My "Sourkraut" powerhouse out and out, pick a peppered infant 

Mix with a little spittle and a speckled pilchard 

Come "Feck de Villchen" cut and crush and pickle him 

and whisk and filter dust until it's fettered tincture 

Metal come elixir petal tongue lift off 

Drunk off of 6 drops sung a hymn to the "Gelle Fra" 

Call her oracle, jump from the hollow tooth 

Yelling notre dame "lutzenbursh" cook us up a curse 

Spell cast spelt arm dough or "sauce blanche" 

All turns blanched, bleached crumbs on a buttered earth 

Mutton to the first bleed, sit and eat your glutton with the birdfeed 

David Fluit: 

D'Zäit eng Stonn no vir, si mer e Schratt viraus, 

fir e klenge Meeting mat lyreschem Austausch. 

Verluer an der Wüst, vun den dréchene Mënner, 

gëff ons Waasser, well soss penne geschwënn all eis Sënner. 

Am Keller gefaang, am gaang d'Zäit ze vergiessen, 

gefoltert vun Munchies, et gëtt vläit Zäit, eppes z'iessen. 

D'ganzt Land schléift, mä dës Colläb dreift säin Onwiesen, 

mär behalen den Duerchbléck, well eis Aen, déi si gliesen. 

A schonn huet de Gong erklong fir d'Poete-Ronn, 

an am Fong hunn eis gespëtzten Zong an d'Bierelong d'Ronn gewonn, mäi Jong. 

Mär briechen d'Monotonie, well si fänkt un ze fachen, 

a réieren am Dëppen, fir nei Gedanken dran ze kachen. 

KillaNick: 

4i2i, de läb, we got two eyes on you guys 

the truth writes itself when we cruise by on mics 

and we're too high so poof and I'm who I am 

loops by the zoot high so zoop and it's boo yai yay 

whoops did you see I say boop when I see I spray 

bars for de läb in Lux fuck what you think is fucked 

we're fuckin' sick as fuck I fuckin' flip and spit and dump 

acid on the tricks and chumps that's chatting shit 

and spit in lumps of batter when I scatter man 

rap him up and slap a man violence that im chattin' dan 

London to Luxembourg stand up and salute the man that's doin' it big 

and we will ruin it for pricks 

when we're showin' man what is real flavours in your fizz 

that's the bizz that we live in in the bits, it's a given that we live in a prison 

mind control and pessimism is persistent in this system 

I can see change in the distance but it's still a fucking mission