It's all-yo-yo-yo me
|
Choose-a-a-ay poison
|
I-F-F-O, I-F-F-O
|
I-F-F-O, I-F-F-O
|
Queens, aces, kings, me
|
We take out the doors from our feet, I
|
It seems to be in the blood, I
|
When a slut is cunning, I
|
They want to make a hit, I
|
But their heads are empty, I
|
I absorb granite, I
|
Making a kickflip sound, I
|
I-F-F-O (I-F-F-O), I-F-F-O (I-F-F-O)
|
I-F-F-O (I-F-F-O), I-F-F-O (I-F-F-O)
|
It's all-yo-yo-yo me
|
Choose-a-a-ay poison
|
I-F-F-O, I jump into the water through the window
|
Everyone is closer to the skin of their coat
|
I remember, in Malta, I was sitting in one
|
I-F-F-O, there is one round in my Colt
|
I don't need anything at all
|
Nothing but one "but"
|
"I F F O" - strange letters written by me
|
On the misted glass that spring
|
With a trembling but still strong hand
|
I-F-F-O, I fertilize the land with wine
|
And I sing along to the wind: “Let's go. |
Let's go, let's go!"
|
I-F-F-O-O-O-O
|
I-F-F-O-O
|
I-F-F-O-O-O-O
|
I-F-F-O-O
|
I-F-F-Oh, it's so easy
|
Just choose for yourself:
|
Who to be, how to swim
|
Pull this thread
|
Or drink rot
|
Thoughts straight from the streets or from books
|
Take a chance, so the whip whistles, so the biscuit crunches
|
Choose your instinct: head in the sand or let it rain from shells
|
Okay, wake up, squeeze through
|
Pull this anchor or say goodbye to it
|
The spirit is suddenly gone
|
Or the jet splashes
|
Found a balance or still on impulse
|
Fire inside or thoughts are pure
|
Smearing paper, crushing sheets,
|
And if you gave up, then don't give a fuck
|
Grow your balls, get some style
|
Pull this thread
|
Or drink rot
|
Thoughts straight from the street
|
Or from books
|
So the whip whistles, so the biscuit crunches
|
Take the risk
|
It's all-yo-yo-yo me
|
Choose-a-a-ay poison
|
I-F-F-O (I-F-F-O), I-F-F-O (I-F-F-O)
|
I-F-F-O (I-F-F-O), I-F-F-O (I-F-F-O) |