Wife Beater - Mortal Kombat

Kada moja žena krene da mi sere

I po kući počne da se dere

Ja joj zviznem nogom par šamara

I onda ona prestane da smara

Posle se ja pitam kakvu pesmu pisati?

O nekoj lepoj ženi koja voli brisati;

Al' istina je druga, treba piće njoj da platim

Poklon da joj kupim i prestanem da mlatim

Zdravo druže sa Balkana, kako si mi ovih dana?

Da li i od tebe žena pravi redovno kretena?

Meni moja brani piti, Boga mi će svašta biti

Moraću joj uraditi kombo hit i fataliti!

Ko to glumi redovno kretena?

Odgovor znaš, moja žena!

Dosta mi je više nje i njene face gadne

Zabavna je samo kada se saplete i kad padne

Ova moja stalno plače, čak i kad je tučem jače

Nikako da shvati ona, oženio sam morona

To je sve zbog ženskog pola, za volanom sjebe kola

Uzima ti plate pola, dok od tebe pravi vola

Dosta mi je, shvati da odlazim od kuće

Al' ako se 'pak vratim skuvaj jelo vruće!

Čuvam pljosku moju staru baš za ove crne dane

Beži ženo, marš u kujnu, otiš'o sam do kafane

Al' naći ću ženu što će skakati od sreće

Kada briše, pere, pegla i decu našu čuva;

Jedino će tužna biti što kasnije neće

Da briše pere pegla, nego će da kuva!

When my wife starts shitting me

And he starts yelling at the house

I slap her with my foot

And then she stopped bothering

Then I wonder what kind of song to write?

About some beautiful woman who likes to erase;

But the truth is different, I need to pay for her drink

A gift to buy her and stop beating

Hello friend from the Balkans, how are you these days?

Does a woman make you a regular jerk?

My brother forbids me to drink, God will give me everything

I'm going to have to make her a combo hit and fatalize her!

Who plays a regular jerk?

You know the answer, my wife!

I've had enough of her and her nasty face

It's only fun when you stumble and fall

This one of mine cries all the time, even when I beat her harder

No way she understood, I married a moron

It's all because of the female sex, behind the wheel fucks the car

He takes half your salary, while he makes you an ox

I've had enough, realize I'm leaving home

But if I come back, cook hot!

I keep a bottle of my old one just for these dark days

Run, woman, march to the kitchen, I went to the cafe

But I will find a woman who will jump for joy

When he wipes, washes, irons and protects our children;

She will only be sad that she will not be later

To wipe the iron, he will cook!