Popeda — LIIAN KILTTI MIES song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "LIIAN KILTTI MIES" by Popeda.
Lyrics
Onko vaimollasi mahti, tehdä susta lapsenvahti
Kun hän kavereiden kanssa lähtee rientoihin
Omaksutko tyylin noutajan, tohvelisankarin soutajan
Joka huopaa mutta tarttuu verkkoihin
Tuntuuko joskus että, kaipaat viihdykettä
Kun sanan säilä oikein viiltelee
Entä kehutko vaimosi ruokaa, vaikka palanut ois se vuokaan
Ja muina miehinä grillille kävelet
Ootko liian kiltti mies?
Sua pompottaako muija
Et oo ainoo turvenuija, meitä monta lisää on
Etkö ajoissa kotiin palaa, laitatko rahaa jemmaan salaa
Ja roskat maton alle vihellellen lakaiset
Niin mäkin teen
Kotona pyykkiä silität, ja kavereilles tilität
Sua kiinnosta ei golf, ei jalkapallo
Kaupassa tuttuja lymyilet, vaivautuneesti hymyilet
Pakkaat kassiin sukkahousut ja tamppoonit
Ootko liian kiltti mies?
Sua pompottaako muija
Et oo ainoo turvenuija, meitä monta lisää on
Etkö ajoissa kotiin palaa, laitatko rahaa jemmaan salaa
Ja roskat maton alle vihellellen lakaiset
Niin mäkin teen
Vaimo kympin antaa aamuisin, itsekö tätä halusin
Tähän on vaan jotenkin taas tultu
Nyrkkiä puin, takana päin, paremman huomisen unessa näin
Sanoin siis, näkemiin, nähdään kultu
En oo enää kiltti mies, aikansa pompotti mua muija
Iski Tuomari nuijaa ja kahleet katkaisi
En kotiin enää palaa, koko maailmaa mä halaan
Vapaudesta nautin, yksin kuljeskelen
Tai sitten en
En oo enää kiltti mies, aikansa pompotti mua muija
Iski Tuomari nuijaa ja kahleet katkaisi
Lyrics translation
Does your wife have the power to make you a babysitter?
When he and his friends go on a run.
Do you adopt the style of Retriever, Slipper hero rower
Which blankets but sticks to the Nets
Sometimes you feel like you need some entertainment.
When you keep the word right cuts
What about your wife's food, even if it's burnt in the casserole?
And as other men you walk to the grill
Are you too good a man?
You're being pushed around by a bitch.
You're not the only peat player, there are many more of us
You're not coming home in time, are you secretly putting money into Jemma?
And the garbage under the carpet whistling sweeps
That's what I do, too.
At home, you're ironing the laundry, and you're paying your friends.
You don't care about golf, you don't care about football
In the store, you're hiding, awkwardly smiling
Pack into the bag tights and tampons
Are you too good a man?
You're being pushed around by a bitch.
You're not the only peat player, there are many more of us
You're not coming home in time, are you secretly putting money into Jemma?
And the garbage under the carpet whistling sweeps
That's what I do, too.
Wife ten in the morning, is this what I wanted?
It's just come to this.
Fist-pumping, back-facing, in a better tomorrow's dream like this
So I said, goodbye, see you kultu
I'm no longer a good man, my time was pushed around by a bitch.
Hit the judge with a mallet and broke the chains.
I'm not coming home anymore. I'm hugging the whole world.
I enjoy freedom, I walk alone
Or not
I'm no longer a good man, my time was pushed around by a bitch.
Hit the judge with a mallet and broke the chains.