just the way you are lyric的八卦，PINTEREST和Yahoo名人娛樂都在討論

【Hello Hater】@鬼才做音樂 2021 Ghosician

《Hello Hater》Youtube 高清版MV： https://youtu.be/xyos93gW5e4

The Making Of《Hello Hater》幕後花絮 Youtube高清版： https://youtu.be/RCV8qTt4ktY

《Hello Hater》數位音樂下載 Online Music Download：https://lnk.to/HelloHater

Lyric Version《Hello Hater》動態歌詞版 Youtube高清版 : https://bit.ly/3hSHUio

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Uhh Hello Hater
啊 哈嘍 黑特

Uhh Mother Fxcker
啊 馬德法克

我又來了 (我又來了)
I am here again (I am here again)

我又來了 (我又來了)
I am here again (I am here again)

我又來了來了來了來!
I am here again, again!

我就是教壞囜仔大細 (幹)
I am the bad influencer to the multitudes (Fxck)

袂爽來找恁爸 (來)
If you are upset, come to me (Come)

假的帳號 到處留言
Using fake accounts to leave comments around

面對面陰莖縮進裡面 (咻)
Dick recoils while face to face (Aahs)

我教壞囜仔大細 (吶)
I will influence the multitudes negatively (Nah)

袂爽來找恁爸 (來)
If you are upset, come to me (Come)

確診陽痿 存一支嘴
Impotency leaves you with only a mouth to talk

幹恁阿公ㄟ踹共!
Fxck You, come and face me directly

踹! 呸!
Show up your face!

你頭腦裝洨
Your brain is filled up with semen

眼睛髒看東西都黑掉
Everything looks black in foul eyes

天生雞雞太小 薪水太少
Born with tiny dick, drawing a little salary

只能用鍵盤來高潮
Orgasm only via keyboard

因為想法跟你的不同
As my view is different from yours

所以才能夠比你成功
Therefore I attain greater success than you

看到社會不公 袂爽就講
I would voice up against injustice

你只能跪拜舔騙讚歌頌
You can only truckle and flatter

才不鳥限流被黃標 (想唱啥就唱啥我驕傲)
Never be bothered with restricted flow or yellow tag (I am proud to sing whatever I like)

還開了抖音微博帳號 (有空就麻煩快點舉報)
Registered TikTok and Weibo accounts in addition (Please report when you are available)

整天斷章取義 亂貼標籤
Always misinterpret and label me as you like

根本噁心犯賤 他媽嘴臉
Absolutely disgusting and cheap ugly face

快來黑我 訂閱 分享
Twisted my initial meaning, then subscribe & share my video

害我 每天在賺大錢
Making me tons of money

看見我執迷不悟 刀槍不入
How stubborn and invulnerable I am

脫了你三件內褲
Take off your three briefs

我就是全身的酷 看別人吐
I am damn cool, yet you threw up

Such an outlandish way of gesture
幹恁娘這種程度

Bought bullets cost thirty thousand Pew Pew Pew
買了個銃子 三萬塊嘟嘟嘟嘟

Talkative non-stop, I'll shoot your house
靠北我射你住處

I just need trap but not protection
我只要陷阱 不需要別人的護

Fxck your busybody noisy pig
操你妹雞婆的豬

I am not afraid, I choose to do only serious task
我沒在怕的 我只幹大的

Go to hell bastard, I wanna rebuke till you can't refute
去你的Sucker 壓著你罵的

Consistent tactics similar reply in comments, damn
一貫的伎倆 留言我操

Shut up when you have finished, I deal with big cases
罵完了閉嘴 老子搞大的

I am a sinner never give a shit about moral
我是個罪人 沒在管道德

場子可燥了 沒啥可套的
The place is so boring, nothing is interesting

我只要錢 我不要命
I am willing to risk for money

快給我Shit 而且要Free
Give me shit and it must be free of charge

女兒長大 學床叫
Daughter grown up mature begin to moan

臭婊子幹完 還要
After done first round, initiate another round

小孩照三餐 打掉
Repeated abortion non stop

懶得聽廢話 I’m Bounce
Fed up with the rubbish, goodbye

哈哈 (哈)
Haha (Ha)

幹妳的Bitch啪啪 (蛤?)
Fxck you bitch (Alright?)

媽媽生的臭俗辣 (臭俗辣)
Born to be a coward (Coward)

爸爸生的破麻 (Fxcked up)
Born to be a whore (Fxcked up)

留言區的廢物那些笨豬沒有惡意
All these comments left by the pigs are senseless

但是就是為了能在網路上面To The Top
Just to catch attention online

需要的是共鳴 才能發現
Demand for support, debunk the myth

佩服你的勇氣沒有準備還想Fxck
Salute your courage of simply fooling around

按你讚 快給我笑 (給我笑)
Give you Like, smile to me please (Smile to me)

討論度還在堆高 (長高)
Discussion is getting more intense (Growing)

把你爸媽Shut Down
Shut down your mom and dad

緬甸街中和Town (栗子)
Myanmar Street in Chunghe Town (Chestnut)

聽我的歌 每天看我的影片
Listen to my songs and watch my videos every day

像吞我的洨 然後吃我的大便
Like drink my semen and eat my poo

媒體就愛 報導轉貼
Media loves broadcast and re-post

你恨死恁爸 一直打臉
You hate me to death but slap in your own face

Hey Hater Loser Keyboard Warrior
嘿 黑特 魯蛇 键盘侠

You Mother Fxcker Come and Lick My Shit
馬德法克快來舔我的大便!

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#Namewee #黃明志 #HelloHater

For anyone interested in learning Chinese, we have recently got to know a friend called Hsueh ShaoLan who's developed a great way to start out learning Chinese, especially if you're interested in the characters! She's also just shared our song :)!
我們新認識的朋友ShaoLan剛分享了我們的歌，她創造了一個學中文的方式，很厲害！

Hello friends! Shall we have a little bit of music to welcome our upcoming weekend?

I had a super intensive week. First I went to TED Global in Edinburgh for a few days. Then I came back to London for a gathering in Downing Street (YES! That Downing Street!). I then rushed to Hertfordshire for another amazing conference called Founder’s Forum. And of course, everyone loves Chineasy (yay!). :D

One of the friends in Chineasy Club approached me a few weeks ago. His name is Josh Edbrooke. Josh is a member of Transition, a rock band based in Bristol. Josh and I had green tea one afternoon and I just fell in love with their music.

The coolest thing is that all the three members in the team sing in Chinese! Josh spent a few years in Taiwan and learned how to speak and write Chinese. He wrote all the lyric himself, and I must tell you, his writing is incredible!

Enjoy the song! And tell me if you like it. Josh and I are now friends and we will share more songs with you.

Here is a documentary that they made about their time in Taiwan, it tells something of the story of what they did there. I had a great time watching it and I am sure you will too. http://bit.ly/14zaANB

Facebook www.facebook.com/transitiontw
YouTube www.youtube.com/transitionofficial

對不起, 我的中文不好 Sorry, my Chinese isn't so good

Sorry, my Chinese isn't so good, really sorry, I don't understand what you're saying!
Sorry, my Chinese isn't so good, really sorry, I just want to be friends!
Hello, you're English sounds great, are American?
No, I'm definitely not American, I'm an English gentleman, listen carefully and you'll understand me!
Sorry, my Chinese isn't so good, really sorry, I don't understand what you're saying!
Sorry, my Chinese isn't so good, really sorry, I just want to be friends!
Welcome to my restaurant, what would you like to eat?
I would like to eat sleep.
Really, are you very tired?
No I'm not tired I'm really hungry, I want to eat dumplings, please make them quickly!
Sorry, my Chinese isn't so good, really sorry, I don't understand what you're saying!
Sorry, my Chinese isn't so good, really sorry, I just want to be friends!
No problem, my Chinese has improved, no problem at all, I still want to be your friend!
No problem, my Chinese has improved, no problem at all, I still want to be your friend!
No problem, my Chinese has improved, no problem at all, I still want to be your friend!
No problem, my Chinese has improved, no problem at all, I still want to be your friend!

對不起, 我的中文不好
對不起 對不起 我不知道你說什麼
對不起, 我的中文不好
對不起 對不起 我只想跟你當朋友
Hello 你好嗎? 你的英文好好聽
你是美國人嗎? 並不是美國人
我是一位英國紳士
如果你專心聽 你會了解我
對不起, 我的中文不好
對不起 對不起 我不知道你說什麼
對不起, 我的中文不好
對不起 對不起 我只想跟你當朋友
歡迎光臨 裡面坐
先生, 你要吃什麼?
我要睡覺. 你很累是不是?
我不累 我肚子很餓
我想要吃水餃 請你快點做
對不起, 我的中文不好
對不起 對不起 我不知道你說什麼
對不起, 我的中文不好
對不起 對不起 我只想跟你當朋友
(歡迎光臨 對呀 歡迎來北極熊的家...)
Oh! I am so sorry. Oh!
沒關係 我的中文進步了
沒關係 沒關係 我還要跟你當朋友

Nobody’s Fool　　( January 2011 )

Yoshitomo Nara

Do people look to my childhood for sources of my imagery? Back then, the snow-covered fields of the north were about as far away as you could get from the rapid economic growth happening elsewhere. Both my parents worked and my brothers were much older, so the only one home to greet me when I got back from elementary school was a stray cat we’d taken in. Even so, this was the center of my world. In my lonely room, I would twist the radio dial to the American military base station and out blasted rock and roll music. One of history’s first man-made satellites revolved around me up in the night sky. There I was, in touch with the stars and radio waves.

It doesn’t take much imagination to envision how a lonely childhood in such surroundings might give rise to the sensibility in my work. In fact, I also used to believe in this connection. I would close my eyes and conjure childhood scenes, letting my imagination amplify them like the music coming from my speakers.

But now, past the age of fifty and more cool-headed, I’ve begun to wonder how big a role childhood plays in making us who we are as adults. Looking through reproductions of the countless works I’ve made between my late twenties and now, I get the feeling that childhood experiences were merely a catalyst. My art derives less from the self-centered instincts of childhood than from the day-to-day sensory experiences of an adult who has left this realm behind. And, ultimately, taking the big steps pales in importance to the daily need to keep on walking.

While I was in high school, before I had anything to do with art, I worked part-time in a rock café. There I became friends with a graduate student of mathematics who one day started telling me, in layman’s terms, about his major in topology. His explanation made the subject seem less like a branch of mathematics than some fascinating organic philosophy. My understanding is that topology offers you a way to discover the underlying sameness of countless, seemingly disparate, forms. Conversely, it explains why many people, when confronted with apparently identical things, will accept a fake as the genuine article. I later went on to study art, live in Germany, and travel around the world, and the broader perspective I’ve gained has shown me that topology has long been a subtext of my thinking. The more we add complexity, the more we obscure what is truly valuable. Perhaps the reason I began, in the mid-90s, trying to make paintings as simple as possible stems from that introduction to topology gained in my youth.

As a kid listening to U.S. armed-forces radio, I had no idea what the lyrics meant, but I loved the melody and rhythm of the music. In junior high school, my friends and I were already discussing rock and roll like credible music critics, and by the time I started high school, I was hanging out in rock coffee shops and going to live shows. We may have been a small group of social outcasts, but the older kids, who smoked cigarettes and drank, talked to us all night long about movies they’d seen or books they’d read. If the nighttime student quarter had been the school, I’m sure I would have been a straight-A student.

In the 80s, I left my hometown to attend art school, where I was anything but an honors student. There, a model student was one who brought a researcher’s focus to the work at hand. Your bookshelves were stacked with catalogues and reference materials. When you weren’t working away in your studio, you were meeting with like-minded classmates to discuss art past and present, including your own. You were hoping to set new trends in motion. Wholly lacking any grand ambition, I fell well short of this model, with most of my paintings done to satisfy class assignments. I was, however, filling every one of my notebooks, sketchbooks, and scraps of wrapping paper with crazy, graffiti-like drawings.

Looking back on my younger days—Where did where all that sparkling energy go? I used the money from part-time jobs to buy record albums instead of art supplies and catalogues. I went to movies and concerts, hung out with my girlfriend, did funky drawings on paper, and made midnight raids on friends whose boarding-room lights still happened to be on. I spent the passions of my student days outside the school studio. This is not to say I wasn’t envious of the kids who earned the teachers’ praise or who debuted their talents in early exhibitions. Maybe envy is the wrong word. I guess I had the feeling that we were living in separate worlds. Like puffs of cigarette smoke or the rock songs from my speaker, my adolescent energies all vanished in the sky.

Being outside the city and surrounded by rice fields, my art school had no art scene to speak of—I imagined the art world existing in some unknown dimension, like that of TV or the movies. At the time, art could only be discussed in a Western context, and, therefore, seemed unreal. But just as every country kid dreams of life in the big city, this shaky art-school student had visions of the dazzling, far-off realm of contemporary art. Along with this yearning was an equally strong belief that I didn’t deserve admittance to such a world. A typical provincial underachiever!

I did, however, love to draw every day and the scrawled sketches, never shown to anybody, started piling up. Like journal entries reflecting the events of each day, they sometimes intersected memories from the past. My little everyday world became a trigger for the imagination, and I learned to develop and capture the imagery that arose. I was, however, still a long way off from being able to translate those countless images from paper to canvas.

Visions come to us through daydreams and fantasies. Our emotional reaction towards these images makes them real. Listening to my record collection gave me a similar experience. Before the Internet, the precious little information that did exist was to be found in the two or three music magazines available. Most of my records were imported—no liner notes or lyric sheets in Japanese. No matter how much I liked the music, living in a non-English speaking world sadly meant limited access to the meaning of the lyrics. The music came from a land of societal, religious, and subcultural sensibilities apart from my own, where people moved their bodies to it in a different rhythm. But that didn’t stop me from loving it. I never got tired of poring over every inch of the record jackets on my 12-inch vinyl LPs. I took the sounds and verses into my body. Amidst today’s superabundance of information, choosing music is about how best to single out the right album. For me, it was about making the most use of scant information to sharpen my sensibilities, imagination, and conviction. It might be one verse, melody, guitar riff, rhythmic drum beat or bass line, or record jacket that would inspire me and conjure up fresh imagery. Then, with pencil in hand, I would draw these images on paper, one after the other. Beyond good or bad, the pictures had a will of their own, inhabiting the torn pages with freedom and friendliness.

By the time I graduated from university, my painting began to approach the independence of my drawing. As a means for me to represent a world that was mine and mine alone, the paintings may not have been as nimble as the drawings, but I did them without any preliminary sketching. Prizing feelings that arose as I worked, I just kept painting and over-painting until I gained a certain freedom and the sense, though vague at the time, that I had established a singular way of putting images onto canvas. Yet, I hadn’t reached the point where I could declare that I would paint for the rest of my life.

After receiving my undergraduate degree, I entered the graduate school of my university and got a part-time job teaching at an art yobiko—a prep school for students seeking entrance to an art college. As an instructor, training students how to look at and compose things artistically, meant that I also had to learn how to verbalize my thoughts and feelings. This significant growth experience not only allowed me to take stock of my life at the time, but also provided a refreshing opportunity to connect with teenage hearts and minds.

And idealism! Talking to groups of art students, I naturally found myself describing the ideals of an artist. A painful experience for me—I still had no sense of myself as an artist. The more the students showed their affection for me, the more I felt like a failed artist masquerading as a sensei (teacher). After completing my graduate studies, I kept working as a yobiko instructor. And in telling students about the path to becoming an artist, I began to realize that I was still a student myself, with many things yet to learn. I felt that I needed to become a true art student. I decided to study in Germany. The day I left the city where I had long lived, many of my students appeared on the platform to see me off.

Life as a student in Germany was a happy time. I originally intended to go to London, but for economic reasons chose a tuition-free, and, fortunately, academism-free German school. Personal approaches coexisted with conceptual ones, and students tried out a wide range of modes of expression. Technically speaking, we were all students, but each of us brought a creator’s spirit to the fore. The strong wills and opinions of the local students, though, were well in place before they became artists thanks to the German system of early education. As a reticent foreign student from a far-off land, I must have seemed like a mute child. I decided that I would try to make myself understood not through words, but through having people look at my pictures. When winter came and leaden clouds filled the skies, I found myself slipping back to the winters of my childhood. Forgoing attempts to speak in an unknown language, I redoubled my efforts to express myself through visions of my private world. Thinking rather than talking, then illustrating this thought process in drawings and, finally, realizing it in a painting. Instead of defeating you in an argument, I wanted to invite you inside me. Here I was, in a most unexpected place, rediscovering a value that I thought I had lost—I felt that I had finally gained the ability to learn and think, that I had become a student in the truest sense of the word.

But I still wasn’t your typical honors student. My paintings clearly didn’t look like contemporary art, and nobody would say my images fit in the context of European painting. They did, however, catch the gaze of dealers who, with their antennae out for young artists, saw my paintings as new objects that belonged less to the singular world of art and more to the realm of everyday life. Several were impressed by the freshness of my art, and before I knew it, I was invited to hold exhibitions in established galleries—a big step into a wider world.

The six years that I spent in Germany after completing my studies and before returning to Japan were golden days, both for me and my work. Every day and every night, I worked tirelessly to fix onto canvas all the visions that welled up in my head. My living space/studio was in a dreary, concrete former factory building on the outskirts of Cologne. It was the center of my world. Late at night, my surroundings were enveloped in darkness, but my studio was brightly lit. The songs of folk poets flowed out of my speakers. In that place, standing in front of the canvas sometimes felt like traveling on a solitary voyage in outer space—a lonely little spacecraft floating in the darkness of the void. My spaceship could go anywhere in this fantasy while I was painting, even to the edge of the universe.

Suddenly one day, I was flung outside—my spaceship was to be scrapped. My little vehicle turned back into an old concrete building, one that was slated for destruction because it was falling apart. Having lost the spaceship that had accompanied me on my lonely travels, and lacking the energy to look for a new studio, I immediately decided that I might as well go back to my homeland. It was painful and sad to leave the country where I had lived for twelve years and the handful of people I could call friends. But I had lost my ship. The only place I thought to land was my mother country, where long ago those teenagers had waved me goodbye and, in retrospect, whose letters to me while I was in Germany were a valuable source of fuel.

After my long space flight, I returned to Japan with the strange sense of having made a full orbit around the planet. The new studio was a little warehouse on the outskirts of Tokyo, in an area dotted with rice fields and small factories. When the wind blew, swirls of dust slipped in through the cracks, and water leaked down the walls in heavy rains. In my dilapidated warehouse, only one sheet of corrugated metal separated me from the summer heat and winter cold. Despite the funky environment, I was somehow able to keep in midnight contact with the cosmos—the beings I had drawn and painted in Germany began to mature. The emotional quality of the earlier work gave way to a new sense of composure. I worked at refining the former impulsiveness of the drawings and the monochromatic, almost reverent, backgrounds of the paintings. In my pursuit of fresh imagery, I switched from idle experimentation to a more workmanlike approach towards capturing what I saw beyond the canvas.

Children and animals—what simple motifs! Appearing on neat canvases or in ephemeral drawings, these figures are easy on the viewers’ eyes. Occasionally, they shake off my intentions and leap to the feet of their audience, never to return. Because my motifs are accessible, they are often only understood on a superficial level. Sometimes art that results from a long process of development receives only shallow general acceptance, and those who should be interpreting it fail to do so, either through a lack of knowledge or insufficient powers of expression. Take, for example, the music of a specific era. People who lived during this era will naturally appreciate the music that was then popular. Few of these listeners, however, will know, let alone value, the music produced by minor labels, by introspective musicians working under the radar, because it’s music that’s made in answer to an individual’s desire, not the desires of the times. In this way, people who say that “Nara loves rock,” or “Nara loves punk” should see my album collection. Of four thousand records there are probably fewer than fifty punk albums. I do have a lot of 60s and 70s rock and roll, but most of my music is from little labels that never saw commercial success—traditional roots music by black musicians and white musicians, and contemplative folk. The spirit of any era gives birth to trends and fashions as well as their opposite: countless introspective individual worlds. A simultaneous embrace of both has cultivated my sensibility and way of thinking. My artwork is merely the tip of the iceberg that is my self. But if you analyzed the DNA from this tip, you would probably discover a new way of looking at my art. My viewers become a true audience when they take what I’ve made and make it their own. That’s the moment the works gain their freedom, even from their maker.

After contemplative folk singers taught me about deep empathy, the punk rockers schooled me in explosive expression.

I was born on this star, and I’m still breathing. Since childhood, I’ve been a jumble of things learned and experienced and memories that can’t be forgotten. Their involuntary locomotion is my inspiration. I don’t express in words the contents of my work. I’ll only tell you my history. The countless stories living inside my work would become mere fabrications the moment I put them into words. Instead, I use my pencil to turn them into pictures. Standing before the dark abyss, here’s hoping my spaceship launches safely tonight….

I hope you all will enjoy this video, I love this song very much =]

Lyrics:
[Mike]
You ready? Lets go!
Yeah, for those of you who want to know what we`re all about
It`s like this y`all (c`mon!)

[Chorus]
This is ten percent luck,
Twenty percent skill,
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will,
Five percent pleasure,
Fifty percent pain,
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name!

[Mike]
Mike
He doesn`t need his name up in lights
He just wants to be heard whether it`s the beat or the mic
He feels so unlike everybody else, alone
In spite of the fact that some people still think that they know him
But fuck em`
He knows the code:
It`s not about the salary
It`s about reality and making some noise
Makin' a story
Makin sure his clique stays up
That means when he puts it down, Tak`s pickin it up!
(Let`s go!)

[Tak]
Who the hell is he anyway?
He never really talks much
Never concerned with status but still leavin them star struck
Humbled through opportunities given despite the fact
That many mis judge him because he makes a livin from writin raps
Put it together himself, now the picture connects
Never askin for someone`s help, and get some respect
He`s only focused on what he wrote, his will is beyond reach
And now when it all unfolds, the skill of an artist

[Ryu]
This is twenty percent skill
Eighty percent fear
Be one hundred percent clear, 'cause Ryu is ill
Who would`ve thought that he`d be the one to set the west in flames
Then I heard him wreckin with The Crystal Method, "The Name Of The Game"
Came back dropped Megadef, took 'em to church
I like bleach man, Ryu had the stupidest verse
This dude is the truth, now everybody givin him guest spots
His stock`s through the roof I heard he fuckin with S-Dot!

[Chorus]
It`s just ten percent luck,
Twenty percent skill,
Fiftteen percent concentrated power of will,
Five percent pleasure,
Fifty percent pain,
And a hundred perecnt reason to remember the name!

[Ryu]
They call him Ryu he's sick
And he`s spittin' fire and Mike
Got him out the dryer he`s hot
Found him in Fort Minor with Tak
What a fuckin' nihilist porcupine
He`s a prick, he`s a cock
The type woman want to be with
And rappers hope he get shot
Eight years in the makin`
Patiently waitin to blow
Now the record with Shinoda`s takin over the globe
He`s got a partner in crime, his shit is equally dope
You wont believe the kind of shit that comes out of this kid`s throat

[Tak]
Tak
He`s not your everyday on the block
He knows how to work with what he's got
Makin his way to the top
He often gets a comment on his name
People keep askin him, was it given at birth,
Or does it stand for an acronym?
No. He`s livin' proof,
Got him rockin the booth
He`ll get you buzzin quicker than a shot of vodka with juice (juice)
Him and his crew are known around as one of the best
Dedicated to what they do n give a hundred percent!

[Mike]
Forget Mike
Nobody really knows how or why he works so hard
It seems like he`s never got time
Because he writes every note, and he writes every line
And I`ve seen him at work when that light goes on in his mind
It`s like a design is written in his head every time
Before he even touches a key or speaks in a rhyme
And those motherfuckers he runs with the kids that he signed?
Ridiculous, without even trying, how do they do it?!

[Chorus]
This is ten percent luck,
Twenty percent skill,
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will,
Five percent pleasure,
Fifty percent pain,
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name!

This is ten percent luck,
Twenty percent skill,
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will,
Five percent pleasure,
Fifty percent pain,
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name!

[Outro - Mike]
Yeah! Fort Minor!
M. Shinoda, Styles of Beyond!
Ryu, Takbir!
Machine Shop!

****I own nothing, no copyright infringement intended****

Lyric
Padung Songsang

Melody
BOSSA ON THE BEAT

Director
Weirdvisuel

Producer
Jakkapong banleng

Co-producer
Papavin pongkoon

Light director
Thanawat Tangpraditkun
Cameraman
Theeratuch kitvate

Editor
Sutipon Jareerat

Props
Worawit kraiwitoon
NATTAWAT MADEE
Nuttapong Laepuang
Passakorn songsang
Phakphum songsang

Location
Cheeze.looker.studio
Ppoojiradt

Makeup effect
Chai chuanchyn

-Lyrics

- Mood -

Look at me and listen
Don’t be conceited by your fame
Cos money and fame don’t last
It can crumble if you don’t come down off your high horse

Confident that you’re all that
Arrogant with your ego
Dissin on others like they’re inferior
Bragging about making it
Hell, one day you might fall, who knows

Put it in that thick skull of yours
Nobody is better than anybody
Looking at people like they are trash and you are King
Can get you crushed like you are nothing

Give others a chance
Fool, you ain’t no King
Sneering at the underdog with that face of yours
Actin like you own it all is fuckin embarrassing
No respect is the only outcome you’ll get

Use you head, power that you gain
Don’t use it to beat and kill others to dust
Brag, boast, block, bastardize
When you fall off your horse all you’ll hear is this

hahaha hahaha...

You might be good but don’t be big headed
Give other people a chance
Don’t get carried away with pride
Popularity and glory
Be realistic, there’s up and there’s always down


Think it over, the life that you built
Being kind to others
Will give it more meaning
When you die
Friends and all
Will keep you in their memories

A hot sunny day could end in with rain
Fame can perish, it’s just a cycle, is what I’m told

Accept it, accept it, accept it
Don’t be misguided, don’t be misguided

Facts of life is death and life
Get a grip, don’t lose yourself

Don’t, don’t, don’t hate, no don’t
No, no don’t loathe, don’t judge

Replace it with love, kindness, generosity and friendliness
Take the big out of the head and put it in the heart
Don’t stand in the way

If someone is down
show them the light
Help them find the way
Pull them out from the dark
Don’t just ignore and walk pass
When it’s your turn to fall you’ll be left with nobody
And this will be the voice that haunts you

hahahaha hahahaha…

I have lived the underdog’s life
Won’t budge with the fame along the way
Because nothing lasts forever
Sleep, wake up, life, death
it’s destined to be

When you have honour
Power and fortune
What you preach and say
To others will always go.


One day it’s gone
The pride that you use to own
Not only people
Dogs won’t even throw you a bone


- อารมณ์ -

มองตากูแล้วมึงจงฟัง
อย่าเหิมเกริมในความดัง
ชื่อเสียงเงินทอง ไม่จีรัง
ระวังจะพัง ถ้ามึงยังกร่างและก๋ากั่น

มั่นหน้า ในความเจ๋ง
ผยองตนเป็นขงเบ้ง
เหยียดคนไม่เก่งว่ากระจอก
ไอ้คนที่บอกสักวันมันอาจจะขึ้น
วันหนึ่งมึงอาจจะลงใครเล่าจะรู้

สำเนียกเอาไว้ จำใส่สมองของมึงเอาไว้
ไม่มีใครเหนือกว่าใครบนโลกนี้
ไอ้คนมึงมองเป็นขี้และมึงเป็น King
อาจโดนขยี้เป็นขี้ได้

เปิดโอกาศคนอื่นเขาบ้าง
อย่ามาดหมาเป็นราชาในสายมึง
พอเห็นใครด้อยก็ถากถาง ทำหน้าตึง
สำแดงเดช ว่าของถึง มันน่าอาย
ผลลัพธ์ที่ได้ จะไม่มีใครเคารพมึง

มึงคิด ให้ดี ว่าบารมี ที่ได้มันมา
อย่าใช้มาเข่น มาฆ่า ผู้น้อยให้เป็นธุลี
ยกตน ข่มท่าน ปิดกั้น ย่ำยี
เมื่อไร้ค่า ตกต่ำ มึงจะได้ยินเสียงนี้

ฮาฮาฮา ฮาฮาฮา

เตือนตัวเองว่าเก่งได้ แต่มึงอย่ากร่าง
ดัง เปิดทางคนอื่นบ้าง อย่ากั๊กไว้
อย่าหลงตน อย่าจองหอง
ว่าชื่อเสียงมึงเกรียงไกร
เผื่อใจเอาไว้ บันไดขึ้นได้ต้องลงเป็น
กลับไปคิด ชีวิตที่สร้าง
พระคุณให้คน
มันมักมีความหมาย
เวลามึงตายแล้ว
มิตรสหายทุกคน
จะเก็บไปจดจำ
ตะวันที่ร้อนสุดท้ายยังมีฝนตกทับ
มีดังต้องมีดับ เป็นวัฎจักร พระเคยสอนไว้


ปลง มึงปลง มึงปลง
อย่าหลง อย่าหลง
จงปลงเสียเถิด มีตาย มีเกิด
อย่าหลงเตลิด ให้มีสติ


อย่าชิ อย่าชิ อย่าชิง อย่าชัง ไม่รัง
ไม่ก่ง ไม่เกลียด ไม่เดียด ไม่ฉันท์
ให้รัก ให้ใคร่ เมตตา น้ำใจ ไมตรี
ต้องมีให้บ้าง ไม่ขวางทาง
ไม่หวงก้าง

ใครต่ำตม
จงยื่นมอบแสงสว่าง
ให้เขาได้เห็นทาง
คนล้มต้องฉุดบ้าง
อย่ามัวเฉยเมย แล้วเดินผ่าน
เวลามึงล้มและอ้างว้าง ไม่เหลือใคร
เสียงนี้จะคอยหลอกหลอนมึงอยู่ข้างๆ

ฮาฮาฮา ฮาฮาฮา


คนอย่างกู อยู่มา เยี่ยงหมาแล้ว
จะมีแวว ดังเด่น ไม่เต้นตื่น
เพราะรู้ว่า ความดัง ไม่ยั่งยืน
หลับกับตื่น ตายอยู่
มันคู่กัน


เมื่อยามมึงมีศักดิ์ศรี
มึงมีอำนาจและวาสนา
จะพูดจะจา จะเสวนา
กับใครต่อใคร มันมักจะได้ผล


วันหนึ่งอำนาจมึงหมด
ศักดิ์ศรี มึงหนีออกไปจากตัวตน
อย่าว่าแต่คนเลย
หมาก็ยังไม่มอง

---
กดติดตามบรรยากาศทัวร์คอนเสิร์ตและความฮาของ แจ๊ส สปุ๊กนิค ปาปิยอง กุ๊กกุ๊ก ได้ที่นี่
YouTube : https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCtRzHaTQnfacmDUITEQbgxQ
ติดตามความน่ารักของน้องแตงไทยได้ในช่อง Miss tang : https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCf4cJ1Z9qo6aoEjsYWFN7XA
Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/jazzspkk
Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/jazz_spkk/?hl
#เพลงใหม่แจ๊ส #อารมณ์ #JSPKK

When it ends (Sau tất cả English Version) - Lynk Lee
Music: Khắc Hưng
Lyrics: Đức Long
Singer: Lynk Lee
(cover from Sau tất cả - Erik St.319)

Các bạn click "Xem thêm" để xem lời bài hát nhé. Nghe xong nhớ like nhớ subscribe đâyyyyyyy!!

➢ Click theo dõi YouTube Lynk Lee: https://goo.gl/Gsv9BY
➢ Official Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Singer.LynkLee
➢ Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/+lynklee88official
➢ Lynk Lee MV Playlist: https://goo.gl/15Oy6V

When it ends (Sau tất cả English Version) Lyrics


When it ends, I will see you again
To start over new, as if we had just met
When it ends, I will stay the same
And after the days we were apart
I know that we can go back

There were times we were stuffy
You said no word to me, you just left
Time has likely stopped, seems like everything's gone
To let my heart realize I need you

My love for you has always been retained
It's got too great so I can't hold it back
I just need you to show me your innocence
All hardships are only a test
Because our hearts belong in one place

When it ends, we'll walk the same way
A street where we can hold our hands to its end
When it ends, we'll share everything
There's no sorrow that would split us both
And we just stay all so close

There were times we were stuffy
You said no word to me, you just left
Time has likely stopped, seems like everything's gone
To let my heart realize I need you

My love for you has always been retained
It's got too great so I can't hold it back
I just need you to show me your innocence
All hardships are only a test
Because our hearts belong in one place

Just take my hand and let us walk all our lifetimes
All heavy steps we'll overcome
And you will see that we've got so close

My love for you has always been retained
It's got too great so I can't hold it back
I just need you to show me your innocence
All hardships are only a test
Because our hearts belong in one place