Installer Steam
log på
|
sprog
简体中文 (forenklet kinesisk)
繁體中文 (traditionelt kinesisk)
日本語 (japansk)
한국어 (koreansk)
ไทย (thai)
Български (bulgarsk)
Čeština (tjekkisk)
Deutsch (tysk)
English (engelsk)
Español – España (spansk – Spanien)
Español – Latinoamérica (spansk – Latinamerika)
Ελληνικά (græsk)
Français (fransk)
Italiano (italiensk)
Bahasa indonesia (indonesisk)
Magyar (ungarsk)
Nederlands (hollandsk)
Norsk
Polski (polsk)
Português (portugisisk – Portugal)
Português – Brasil (portugisisk – Brasilien)
Română (rumænsk)
Русский (russisk)
Suomi (finsk)
Svenska (svensk)
Türkçe (tyrkisk)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamesisk)
Українська (ukrainsk)
Rapporter et oversættelsesproblem
Niight's shooting technique, so fine, He scores from anywhere, divine, When he's on the wing, oh what a sight, The ball flies in, with such might.
He dribbles past defenders with ease, His moves so slick, so breezy, The ball at his feet, his heart's beat, Niight's the one they can't defeat.
He shoots, he scores, he celebrates, His passion, his joy, his fate, With Martin by his side, his wingman, Together they shine, like starmen.
His fans in the stands, they can't believe. The magic he weaves, with every conceive
SiguyWoody, his biggest fan, Cheers him on, with his mighty clan.
So watch out for Niight, the pso king, His skills, his pace, his winged sting, When he's on the pitch, it's a sight to see, Niight and Braithwaite, a dream team, you'll see.