Friedrich wants the 168-hour workweek
How 'bout I punch a tunnel into your dome?
Here comes the cleaning crew
We’re looking up to you
Slav-squatting, munching sunflower seeds before the Bundestag
First you think: “Wow, big privilege”
But I know what it’s like, come on
Who doesn’t know that multimillionaires are middle class?
Freddy makes life unaffordable for all of us
And still thinks our problem is marijuana (Bubatz)

Sure, train even more boys for battle
But I think this country only needs one slogan

Merz, lick balls
Come on, you love us, don’t you?
Merz, lick balls
So get down on your knees, just on principle
A pension at seventy is too early for Friedrich
You greedy grandpa who sends kids to war
Lick balls
Friedrich, bon appétit

Merz, lick
Donald’s fries or Netanyahu’s foot again
You’ve never even tried to be a good person
Kids are dying, you send more weapons
It’s a matter of honor, you say
If you like to sugarcoat it, vote CDU
They’re always good at handling criticism
Come on, send in the SWAT team
Who comforts little Friedrich in these times? He sits sulking in the ball pit
A woman’s body is none of a sonofabitch’s business
Take care of my prosperity instead, Digga, since you’re a man

The way you type looks really intense
But while you’re at it
Write down this sentence

[Chorus repeats]
Merz, lick balls…