I feel like a current of air between your mother's legs She who carried you in her, prefers her clientele I feel like a current of air between your mother's legs She who carried you in her, prefers her clientele Clientele, clientele Clientele, clientele Clientele, clientele Clientele No, I'm not saying you're a son of a bitch But your mother chose to play the flute Last night I saw your uncle walking down the street And this pig told him to change his attitude Stay calm, don't make a fool of yourself Mom is in the textile industry, and your uncle is just a taxi driver You're at the end of your life, with no strategy You have no more friends, you stay in your dream You're at the end of your life, with no strategy You have no more friends, you stay in your dream I feel like a current of air between your mother's legs She who carried you in her, prefers her clientele I feel like a current of air between your mother's legs She who carried you in her, prefers her clientele You cover your ears when the night falls Don't want to hear her, I'm afraid to see her name You hate her, you complain to her, that's what's stupid Protect yourself, be there before she falls She won't stop no matter what you tell her She drank too much, she forgot she has a daughter Seven billion under the ground, yeah Weakly lonely, yeah For a mother's negotiation, yeah Her father is a volunteer You're at the end of your life, with no strategy You have no more friends, you stay in your dream You're at the end of your life, with no strategy You have no more friends, you stay in your dream