Popmuusik Lyrics – A-RÜHM
Singer: A-RÜHM
Title: Popmuusik
Siin on minu avakõne eesti popmuusikale
Nekroloog surnult sündinud elavale
Salvav sõna, hape mitte leelis
Tõug on kohalik poppar ehk kõrvadega peenis
Sõnad on kurjad – tean mida teen
Keela, meela, veena ja proovi veel ja veel
Fakti sa ei muuda, siinne vaimne ajutrust
Korraliku teose asemel toodab kust
Eesti muusika ja sõnastuse põhialus
Väldi isiklikku mõtet, mõttetegevus on valus
Vorbid junni pealt junni, kokku tuleb päris pask
Eesti poppi võib päästa produtsendi mahalask
Sest muusika, mida see põrkest pauk teeb
Pole muusika, vaid f#cking lõtv susinaga peer
Ja rahvas neelab sitta, juba seeditud kraam
Ise mäluda ei oska, see on ta ilmapildi raam
Staar keda palvetab ja õhkab vasta kuud
On ajudeta pederast või mõttevaba luud
Nende kupli keemiline koostis viitavat näib
Et õlgadele hoopistükkis perse on läind
Kurb aga tõsi, tõsi aga kurb
Eesti popmuusik, sinu nimi on kürb
Hääl on sul liba, oled kohitsetud mees
Või on mäneka s’hlong otsapidi sees
Võtad ta käest lutti, lakud iga päev peed
See on su töö, mis tippu tallab tee
Sul on lühikene türa ja olematu laup
Kärvanuna olla võid veel vajaminev kaup
Sees on sul hea aga välja paistad sitt
Pole midagi teha mees – sa oled vitt
Ära karju mulle kõrva – popmuusik
Plaanitsen su mõrva – popmuusik
Lase enda tasku – popmuusik
Päkapikudisko – popmuusik
Söö oma sitt sa ise
Oma nurisünnituse
Sinu noodipuldi peale kusen
Kõik 6 pakki tuleks tühjaks lasta
Et lõpetada saaks selle vaimse pederastia
Situ ja kirjuta oma enda sahtlisse
Muidu topin sind põlvedeni pahtlisse
Pirita jõe põhjas laulad tuukriga duetti
Nagu fred jüssi uurid vesirotti
Või vaatad kuidas sookurg ahvenat nikub
Sinu lõpuks saavad bensiin ja tikud
Maiki niristad verbaalset jobi
Maltshii urod, pede, igavene kabi
Kuulates sind, vaadates su tantsupoosi
Mul süda läheb pahaks, ma saan pasa üledoosi
Nõrk on see mis teed, uttu tõmba
Löön su maha nagu moslem lööb lamba
Neonats juudi, othello oma pruudi
Kallale ässitan sul Marju Kuudi
Kui küsid miks, siis annan sulle vastuse
Risti löön su nagu Jeesus Kristuse
30 päeva 40 päeva seal ripud
Ja mul on pohhui kuhu kused, kuhu situd
Sest ma söödan sind, söödan, olen Salme Masso
Sest ma löön sind, löön, oled Kommer Asso
Kes 3 korda päevas kukub trepist alla
Nii see on f#ck you ja shallallalla
Lood meil ju riigis on päris pasad
Kui avad raadio ja miskit kuulata tahad
Kuid nagu ikka sealt tuleb vaid sitta
Kehitad õlgu ja mõtled mis siis ikka
Kohta pole raske leida
Võtad raadio sangast ja viskad pasa vastu seina
Raadiost oli veidi kahju, nii et parema meelega
Popmuusik sind ma hoopis leinan
Sest su mõttetöö on null
Sind vaid liigitan, kas sul on vitt või munn
Su musa on nii igav, et parem vaatan kuidas kasvab muru
Ja hambad mulda surun
Su diskolaulu teema on ju nii lühike
See on kogu aeg üks ja mõte lühike
Popmuusik, kas tahad teada tõde
Sa sündisid sellest, et su isa keppis oma õde
Sind polnud küll plaanis
Kuid tänu sinule nilbe mentaliteet nüüd on suures plaanis
Su menoraagia ning tüüdanud on vesirott
Karistuseks ära lõigatakse parem kott
Laulad ja kaod sitta laod
Ei mäleta sind keegi, aint raha pärast seda teedki
Mõtlemise koormat ise pole kandnud
Laulad naistest, keda ise pole pannud
Su emale su sünni puhul viidi küll tort
Kas tõesti unustas ta mis on abort
See on lihtne – pole vaja mingit arsti
Kalashnikov putsi ja valmis on varsti
Üheksa grammi tina tuleb torust
Nii inimkond puhkab sinu laulujorust
Sa muusikakoolis küll ennast erudeerid
Kuid miks lavalt rahvale siis perse urineerid
Äri nimel sind rahva ette viidi -ha-ha-haa
Ja pits tsüaniidi
Su enda häälepaeltega seon sind tooli külge
Estraadinaha nülin nagu eskimo hülge
Paljastan su vale – vale vale
h#momeelse pale – pale pale
Oled müügiartikkel ja produtsendi ori
Ainsaks noodiks jääb sul surmaeelne korin
Enne kui on hilja lõpeta see pasanteeria
Sina oled kulak ja mina olen Beria
Find more lyrics at lyrics.jspinyin.net
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Popmuusik – English Translation
Here is my opening speech for Estonian pop music
A necrologist to a lively -born live
The word of the word, the acid not in the alkali
The breed is a local popper or a p#n#s with ears
Words are evil – I know what I do
Disable, Meela, Veer and Try More and More
You don’t change the fact, the spiritual brainstorming here
Instead of a decent work produces where
The foundation of Estonian music and wording
Avoid personal idea, thought activity is painful
Vorbid from Junn’s juni, come together
The Estonian pop can be saved by the producer
For the music that this bump does
No music but a f#cking loose peeer
And the people swallow sh#t, already digested stuff
Can’t remember himself, this is his weather frame
A star praying and blasting the Moon
Is a brainless peder or a thoughtless bone
The chemical composition of their dome suggests
That the #ss on the shoulders is the #ss on
Sadly, true, but true sad
Estonian pop music, your name is Kürb
Voice you have a sl#t, you are a mumbled man
Or has a murder s’hlong inside the end
You take her from the nipple, lick the beet every day
This is your job that treads on the top
You have a short dick and a non -existent forehead
You can still be the goods you need
Inside you have a good one but sh#t
There’s nothing to do a man – you are a quint
Don’t scream me in your ear – pop musician
I plan your murder – a pop musician
Let your pocket – a pop musician
Dwarf Disco – Pop Musician
Eat your sh#t you yourself
Their miscarriage
Your note on top of the kusen
All 6 packs should be emptied
To stop this spiritual pederasty
Sit and write to your own drawer
Otherwise I put you in the putty to the knees
At the bottom of the Pirita River you sing a duet with a diver
Like Fred Jüssi study a water rat
Or you look at how the crane f#ck the perch
Your finally get gasoline and matches
Maiki tossed the verbal job
Maltsishii Urod, Pede, Eternal Kabi
Listening to you watching your dance pose
My heart will be upset, I get a sh#t overdose
Weak is what the way is, pulling
I hit you like a Muslim strikes sheep
Neonats Jewish, Othello his bride
I will be giving you berries Kuudi
If you ask why I will give you an answer
Cross I hit your like Jesus Christ
30 days 40 days there hanging
And I have a niphui where the puppies where
Because I feed you, I feed, I am Salme Masso
Because I will hit you, hit, you are kommering Asso
Who 3 times a day falls down the stairs
So this is f#ck you and Shallalla
The stories we have in the country are pretty sh#t
If you open the radio and want to listen to something
But as always, only sh#t comes from there
You should shoulder and think what’s still
It is not difficult to find a place
You take the radio from the handle and throw the sh#t against the wall
The radio was a little sorry so it would rather
Pop musician I mourn instead
Because your thought work is zero
I just classify you whether you have a quint or dick
Your music is so boring that I better look at how the grass grows
And the teeth are pushed into the soil
The subject of your disco song is so short
It is one of the time and the thought is short
Pop musician, do you want to know the truth
You were born from the fact that your father f#cked his sister
You were not planned
But thanks to you the obscene mentality now is on a large scale
Your menorage and the water rat has been stuck
A better bag is cut off for punishment
Singing and loss of sh#t warehouses
Can’t remember you, the only money after this road
The burden of thinking itself has not been carried
Singing women who have not put on themselves
Your mom was taken to your mother’s birth
Did he really forgot what is abortion
It’s simple – no need for a doctor
Kalashnikov Putsi and ready will soon be
Nine grams of tin comes from the tube
So mankind is resting from your songwork
You are erudered at your music school
But why from the stage to the people then the #ss is urinating
On behalf of the business, you were taken to the people -ha-ha-haa
And lace cyanide
With your own vocal cords you will be on the chair
TaStradina nülin like Eskimo seal
Reveal your lie – lie
Homish -Pale – Pale
You are a sales article and a producer slave
The only note you will have a pre -death ridge
Before it is late to finish this pasanteria
You are kulak and I am beria
Find more lyrics at lyrics.jspinyin.net
Lyrics A-RÜHM – Popmuusik
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