安裝 Steam
登入
|
語言
簡體中文
日本語(日文)
한국어(韓文)
ไทย(泰文)
Български(保加利亞文)
Čeština(捷克文)
Dansk(丹麥文)
Deutsch(德文)
English(英文)
Español - España(西班牙文 - 西班牙)
Español - Latinoamérica(西班牙文 - 拉丁美洲)
Ελληνικά(希臘文)
Français(法文)
Italiano(義大利文)
Bahasa Indonesia(印尼語)
Magyar(匈牙利文)
Nederlands(荷蘭文)
Norsk(挪威文)
Polski(波蘭文)
Português(葡萄牙文 - 葡萄牙)
Português - Brasil(葡萄牙文 - 巴西)
Română(羅馬尼亞文)
Русский(俄文)
Suomi(芬蘭文)
Svenska(瑞典文)
Türkçe(土耳其文)
tiếng Việt(越南文)
Українська(烏克蘭文)
回報翻譯問題
There's vomit on his spaghetti already: mom's spaghetti
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm spaghetti
To drop spaghetti, but he keeps on spaghetti
What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes spaghetti
He opens his mouth but spaghetti won't come out
He's choking, how? Everybody's joking now
The spaghetti's run out, time's up, over - blaow!
Snap back to spaghetti, oh! - there goes gravity
Oh - there goes spaghetti, he choked
He's so mad, but he won't
Give up spaghetti nope, he won't have it
He knows, his whole back's to these ropes
It don't matter, he's dope
He knows that, but he's spaghetti
He's so stagnant, he knows
When he goes back to this spaghetti, that's when it's
Back to the lab again, yo, this whole rhapsody
He better go capture this spaghetti and hope it don't pass him
Don't need a gun to get respect up on the street
Under the sun, the bastard son
Will pop the Glock to feed himself and family
By any means, your enemies my enemies
We wet them up like a canteen
The yellow tape surrounds the fate
Don't have a face so now you late, open the gates