安装 Steam
登录
|
语言
繁體中文(繁体中文)
日本語(日语)
한국어(韩语)
ไทย(泰语)
български(保加利亚语)
Čeština(捷克语)
Dansk(丹麦语)
Deutsch(德语)
English(英语)
Español-España(西班牙语 - 西班牙)
Español - Latinoamérica(西班牙语 - 拉丁美洲)
Ελληνικά(希腊语)
Français(法语)
Italiano(意大利语)
Bahasa Indonesia(印度尼西亚语)
Magyar(匈牙利语)
Nederlands(荷兰语)
Norsk(挪威语)
Polski(波兰语)
Português(葡萄牙语 - 葡萄牙)
Português-Brasil(葡萄牙语 - 巴西)
Română(罗马尼亚语)
Русский(俄语)
Suomi(芬兰语)
Svenska(瑞典语)
Türkçe(土耳其语)
Tiếng Việt(越南语)
Українська(乌克兰语)
报告翻译问题

wanna play together?
Conspire to change my attire, rise that fryer and burn that liar
Bro known rider, he got down 3 and they all turned choir
And prior, prior, prior to this 16 or higher
The opps turned bro to a lifer, 300s, leathers on, no biker
And I was the only guy my age in West London with a sniper
See a mans eyes roll back from a chest shot attack, free broski Striker
Or I press on a one .32 but I ain't tryna find out my number on Lyca
Dem man act for the net, but that's not how they are off set
And when me and my amigos pull up, they take off, make off, they're wet
Still bake off where shh got cheffed
Trap pays off, I still get bread
No days off, I miss my bed
Still blaze off, ayy fling that lead
Who's dem yutes? Spin that ped
Do it like Bruce, ching that head
m8