Текст и перевод песни Raske Penge - Original Bang Ding

Original Bang Ding

Vi er allesammen din ven,
Glade for du er kommet her hen.
Du kan danse eller snakke eller hænge.
Så længe du er godt op i den
Og bliver hængende længe.

Jeg sender den her ud til søstrene og makkerne
Der står i kø ude på trapperne.
Her henne nikker folk med nakkerne.
For det er Ostefar på knapperne.
Original ny stil igen, det en original syg stil igen.
Det er en tung riddim lige ud af Osten. Det ham de kalder Raske Penge.
Det er alt det posse og slæng, som der bugger ud over den ting.
Folk oppe i baren, på tønden og dem udenfor som der kommer herhen.
Alle der vrider sig til den musik, så de glemmer, hvornår de skulle hjem.
Alle der kigger på én, men er for genert til at snakke med hende.
Alle der ruller godt op, alle der håber de ryger på dem.
Manden med vanden i hånden, for han blir høj af musikken alene.
Det er original ny stil igen, det en original syg stil igen.
Det er dem laver en tune og griber en mik og buster den.
Dem der gir dem signal, så de blir vildere, end de var derhjemme.
Laver larmen der får pickup-armen tilbage til starten igen.
Dem der er mænd, men ikke bare går hen og tager damerne på deres ende.
Damer der ikke finder sig i noget pis, så de albue-tjekker deres kind.
Chilleren typer der aldrig går rundt og gør andre folk til deres fjende.
Dem der skal feje, men stadig lader mig og mit slæng blive ved alt for længe.
Det er original ny stil igen, det er en original syg stil igen.
Original bang ding.

Jeg sender den her ud til søstrene og makkerne,
Der står i kø ude på trapperne.
Her henne nikker folk med nakkerne,
For det er Ostefar på knapperne.
Jeg sender den her ud til søstrene og makkerne,
Der står og ryger ud på trapperne.
Her henne nikker folk med nakkerne,
For det er TopGunn på knapperne.

Original ny stil igen det en original syg stil igen.
Det er dem der går for hele pakken, sætter ild til hårlakken.
Dem der drukner en skam, fordi de har hang til en hel masse mænd.
Og finder en ven og gør det igen, helt lam på bekræftelsen.
Og dem der går ud, bare fordi at de ikke kan lide at være derhjemme,
Og hænge med ting der kan forsvinde, når man er stiv og blæst på pinde.
Og dem der går ud, uanset om de kan få deres venner med.
Men har noget at ryge, der er nye homies, når de tænder det.
Det dem som der puster på gløderne,
Putter hænderne sammen og stamper fødderne.
Æbleplukkerne, tramperne og bas rødderne.
Dem der husker festerne og glemmer mødetid til møderne.
Dem der sparker til noget luft i en parkeringskælder.
Dem der twerker i deres stuer med deres røvballer.
Dem der skubber til nogle tage til nogle hal-baller.
Dem der bliver hæse, når de er på festivaller.
Dem der vrider apparatet, indtil pappet flapper.
Dem der hæver fra det startede, indtil banken krakker.
Dem der rocker ud bag rattet til en radiostation.
Dem der filmer hele lortet med en smarttelefon.
Weekendpsykonauterne, kikseklapperne,
Køkkenfest marathonrapperne.

Vi alle sammen din ven,
Glade for du er kommet herhen.
Du kan danse eller snakke eller hænge.
Så længe du er godt op i den
Og bliver hængende længe.
Original bang ding.

Den nat i nat, yo den blir lang-lang liggi-lang-lang liggi-lang-lang liggi-leng.
Sent hjem, sent i seng og så er det sent med tømmermænd.
De holder ild i vaffelen hele weekenden.
Der er snolder hele aftenen med Raske Penge.

Original Bang Ding (English)

We're all your friends,
Glad you came here tonight.
You can dance, talk, or just hang,
As long as you're feeling alright
And stay here for a long while.

I'm sending this out to the sisters and the homies,
Standing in line on the stairs.
Over here, people are nodding their heads,
Because it's Ostefar on the decks.
Original new style again, it's an original sick style again.
It's a heavy riddim straight outta Osten, it's him they call Raske Penge.
It's all the posse and crew, going wild over this tune.
People up at the bar, on the barrel, and those outside coming in.
Everyone twisting to the music, forgetting when they should go home.
Everyone looking at her, but too shy to talk to her.
Everyone rolling up, everyone hoping they'll score with them.
The guy with the water in his hand, because he gets high off the music alone.
It's an original new style again, it's an original sick style again.
It's them making a tune, grabbing a mic, and busting it.
Those giving them the signal, so they get wilder than they were at home.
Making the noise that brings the pickup arm back to the start again.
The ones who are men, but don't just grab the ladies on their behinds.
Ladies who don't put up with any crap, so they elbow-check their cheek.
The chill types who never go around making enemies.
The ones who are supposed to sweep up, but still let me and my crew stay way too long.
It's an original new style again, it's an original sick style again.
Original bang ding.

I'm sending this out to the sisters and the homies,
Standing in line on the stairs.
Over here, people are nodding their heads,
Because it's Ostefar on the decks.
I'm sending this out to the sisters and the homies,
Smoking outside on the stairs.
Over here, people are nodding their heads,
Because it's TopGunn on the decks.

Original new style again, it's an original sick style again.
It's those who go all out, setting fire to the hairspray.
Those who drown their shame because they have a thing for a whole bunch of men,
And find a friend and do it again, totally wasted on validation.
And those who go out just because they don't like being at home,
And hanging with things that can disappear when you're wasted and high as a kite.
And those who go out, regardless if they can get their friends to come along,
But have something to smoke, there are new homies when they light it up.
It's those who puff on the embers,
Put their hands together and stomp their feet.
The apple pickers, the stompees, and the bass heads.
Those who remember the parties and forget about meeting times for meetings.
Those who kick some air in a parking garage.
Those who twerk in their living rooms with their booties.
Those who push some roofs at some hall parties.
Those who get hoarse when they're at festivals.
Those who twist the device until the cardboard flaps.
Those who withdraw from the start until the bank cracks.
Those who rock out behind the wheel to a radio station.
Those who film the whole thing with a smartphone.
The weekend psychonauts, the biscuit clappers,
The kitchen party marathon rappers.

We're all your friends,
Glad you came here tonight.
You can dance, talk, or just hang,
As long as you're feeling alright
And stay here for a long while.
Original bang ding.

This night tonight, yo it's gonna be long-long liggi-lang-lang liggi-lang-lang liggi-leng.
Late home, late to bed and then it's late with a hangover.
They keep the fire burning all weekend.
There's fun all night with Raske Penge.