Rah Rah - Klovner I Kamp

Her kommer dansken, ogsҐ kalt familiens sorte fҐr.

Vi spiller baseball.

Huet ditt er ball og jeg slҐr.

Det smeller nҐr jeg treffer og ditt hode

kommer susende over husene for en deilig berusende flelse det gir Ґ

komme cruisende pҐ en blge av sucse i det nye Ґrtusende.

En hҐnd i

trusene er bedre en ti pҐ et tak.

Smak og behag med gutteprat er mitt

fag.

Jeg jobber i en tid, og det eneste man gjr er Ґ leve etter reglene

helt til man dr. Men jeg er’kke sҐnn ha’kke tenkt Ґ ende som en

bitter sofasliter det frister lite Ґ sitte stille i enden av en gang pҐ et lite

grҐtt kontor, sҐ klokka fire er jeg trikken hjem til kҐken der jeg bor.

Der er det kona som er sjefen, men jeg har min egen grill.

Jeg

drmmer om Ґ skille meg men tro’kke hun vil.

Begge kidsa har mobil

De ringer dgnet rundt pҐ tvers av oss og samtlige regninger gҐr til innkassa.

Hver j¦vla jul kommer svigermor og konas slekt og venner.

Jeg

setter dem pҐ spissen, men du skjnner hva jeg mener.

Hvor er

kj¦rligheten, gleden, livskvaliteten.

Jeg gjr sҐ godt jeg kan, men jeg

kan fortsatt ikke se den.

SҐ fuck.

Ni til fire.

Min tittel stҐr pҐ papiret.

Det er jeg som er sjefen sҐ dere hopper nҐr jeg sier det.

(Ref:) Hopp opp hopp opp hopp opp ikke stopp.

Hopp opp hopp opp

SҐnn at du aldri kan fҐ nok hopp opp hopp opp hopp opp ikke stopp

Hopp opp hopp opp sҐnn at du aldri kan fҐ nok.

Vi dribler deg, takler deg, buster deg, fucker deg.

Se meg inn i y’a

nҐr jeg kommer for Ґ slakte deg.

Snakker masse dritt om deg og gir

det ut pҐ CD.

Tar no’n pornoshots med kona di' og sender det pҐ TV.

Du ha’kke no' talent.

Du eier ikke no' begavelse.

Snart sitter du som

¦resgjest i din egen begravelse.

Det er bare Ґ beklage, men vi har

nok blitt for sv¦re.

For nҐr gutta gҐr til angrep er det fare pҐ f¦re.

Vi

lager tekster som er treffende, og beats som er feite.

Vi tror ikke vi er de

de beste vi veit det.

Vi trenger ikke bllekurs vi klarer shitten sj¦l.

Vi tar

et balletak pҐ klla di' og river deg i hj¦l.

Vi har stҐl i ben og armer

og er harde som sement.

Har du glemt det det handler om er stil og

Here comes the Dane, also called the family's black father.

We play baseball.

Your hat is ball and I'm hitting.

It pops when I hit your head

comes whizzing over the houses for a delicious heady feeling it gives Ґ

come cruising on a wave of success in the new world.

A hand in

the panties are better than ten on a roof.

Taste and pleasure with boy talk is mine

subject.

I work for a while and the only thing you do is live by the rules

until you are Dr. But I don't even intend to end up like one

bitter couch wear there is little temptation to sit quietly at the end of a small hallway

gray office, so at four o'clock I take the tram home to the kitchen where I live.

There, the wife is the boss, but I have my own grill.

I

dreams of divorcing me but I don't think she wants to.

Both kids have mobile phones

They call 24/7 across us and all bills go to the till.

Every bloody Christmas the mother-in-law and the wife's relatives and friends come.

I

puts them on edge, but you know what I mean.

Where is

the love, the joy, the quality of life.

I do the best I can, but I

still can't see it.

So fuck.

Nine to four.

My title is on the paper.

I'm the boss so you jump when I say that.

(Ref:) Jump up jump up jump up don't stop.

Jump up jump up

Like you can never get enough jump up jump up jump up don't stop

Jump up jump up so you can never get enough.

We dribble you, tackle you, bust you, fuck you.

See me into y’a

when I come to slaughter you.

Talks a lot of crap about you and gives

it out on CD.

Take some porno shots with your wife and broadcast it on TV.

You have no talent.

You don't have any talent.

Soon you will be sitting like

¦guest at your own funeral.

It's just Ґ sorry, but we have

probably become too difficult.

Because when the guys attack, there is danger ahead.

We

making lyrics that are hitting and beats that are fat.

We don't think we are them

the best we know.

We don't need bubble courses, we can handle the shit ourselves.

We take

a bale roof on your face and tear you to pieces.

We have steel in our legs and arms

and are hard as cement.

Have you forgotten what it's all about is style and