Soymilk
懒得管
Can't be bothered to care
没时间跟你演戏
No time to put on an act with you
懒得管
Can't be bothered to care
没时间跟你演戏
No time to put on an act with you
懒得管
Can't be bothered to care
没时间跟你演戏
No time to put on an act with you
懒得管
Can't be bothered to care
没时间跟你演戏
No time to put on an act with you
老油条演技高超
The old slickster's a brilliant actor
还好我看得清
Good thing I can see right through it
我可不想欠你一个人情
I don't want to owe you a favor
本来都想休息了
I was ready to take a break
但是你们太会闹
But you're all too good at making trouble
我只能再努一把力
So I can only push a little harder
虽然很香但是你不能吃
It smells good, but you can't eat it
你是条狗吃巧克力会死
You're a dog, chocolate will kill you
口水流下来的白切鸡
Poached chicken with drool running down
生前嘴巴真硬
Its mouth was so tough when it was alive
洗干净后肉真紧
Once washed clean, the meat's so firm
真不好意思
I'm so sorry
谎话太多了
Too many lies
这个人你一定要小心接触
You'd better be careful dealing with this person
虽然你初出茅庐
Even if you're just starting out
同一片天空同一个梦
Under the same sky, sharing the same dream
懒得管
Can't be bothered to care
没时间跟你演戏
No time to put on an act with you
懒得管
Can't be bothered to care
没时间跟你演戏
No time to put on an act with you
懒得管
Can't be bothered to care
没时间跟你演戏
No time to put on an act with you
懒得管
Can't be bothered to care
没时间跟你演戏
No time to put on an act with you
Notes
A breakfast pairing becomes a portrait of a slick operator. Favors turn into debts, shared dreams into synchronized calculations, and refusing to participate becomes a form of self-protection.
懒得听
懒得 is unwillingness to spend effort, not necessarily inability. Repeating it for listening and caring makes disengagement sound like an allocation of time: this exchange is not worth the work. That claim gets tested when the speaker admits the others have made enough trouble that he has to push himself again.
跟你演戏
跟你 means “with you,” so the refusal is not only to watch a bad actor. It is to become a participant in the other person’s performance, pretending along with them. The next verse’s “old slickster” supplies the partner who knows this routine too well; withholding cooperation is the speaker’s way of breaking the scene.
老油条
老油条 is literally an old youtiao, the fried dough often eaten with soy milk. Figuratively it is a practiced operator: someone who knows the ropes and has become slippery with experience. The title keeps the breakfast pairing audible behind the insult. “Brilliant acting” then specifies the skill this particular old hand has acquired: appearing convincing.
欠你一个人情
人情 here is a favor carrying an expectation of reciprocity; 欠 makes it something owed. The objection is not just to receiving help but to being placed under an obligation to this particular person. That makes a seemingly friendly exchange another possible entanglement in a verse about slippery operators.
你是条狗
The insult pretends to offer protective advice: because the listener is a dog, a tempting food is dangerous to them. That combines exclusion with mock concern—something desirable exists, but not for you. The following direction to find somewhere cool repeats the maneuver, wrapping “get lost” in language that sounds superficially considerate.
哪凉快哪呆着去
哪凉快哪呆着去 is a dismissive way to tell someone to get lost or stop bothering you. Literally it offers somewhere cool to sit, disguising the rejection as an almost hospitable suggestion. After the dog-and-chocolate insult, the surface concern keeps turning into exclusion.
白切鸡
白切鸡 is chicken gently cooked and then cut for serving; the dish name makes the animal ready for a table. The next line imagines its defiant mouth while alive, then praises the firmness of its meat. The passage changes the target from a person who can argue back into something the speaker can inspect and consume.
嘴巴真硬
嘴硬 means talking tough, refusing to concede or admit fault. Giving that “hard mouth” to a chicken before describing its firm meat pulls an idiomatic personality trait back into the body. The animal insult becomes kitchen imagery.
重心
重心 is literally a center of gravity; figuratively it is the main concentration of attention or work. Saying it moved elsewhere long ago dismisses the quarrel as already out of date. The song nevertheless continues giving warnings, so its declared detachment coexists with a desire to make sure somebody else learns what he has learned.
初出茅庐
初出茅庐 literally means first leaving a thatched cottage. The idiom comes through Romance of the Three Kingdoms and Zhuge Liang’s entry into service; in everyday speech it describes someone inexperienced and just entering the wider world. Here the next line strips away any expectation of gentler treatment for a beginner.
没人会让着你
让着 someone means give them room, hold back, or let them have the advantage, often out of kindness or because they are younger. Its negation cancels the customary excuse of inexperience. After the literary 初出茅庐, the sentence lands as plainspoken instruction about entering a competitive social world.
打算盘的声音神同步
打算盘 can mean work an abacus or make self-interested plans. After the shared sky and dream, everyone’s supposedly common purpose becomes the perfectly synchronized noise of calculating. 神同步 is emphatic internet phrasing for uncanny or perfect synchronization.
Independent, AI-assisted English translation. Not artist-authorized. Sources: Genius · original lyric transcript.