humse koi ghustaki ho, bura na uska manna
muh hai chhota baat badi hai, hunske tum na talna
main to hun bazari lekin aap hai izzat wale
ayashi ke adde khole, ghunha pe parde dale

battamizi, battamizi pe hum a gaye to
tum sharifo ka phir kya hoga
ho battamizi pe hum a gaye to, tum sharifo ka phir kya hoga
hai shishe ke ghar tumhare, hai shishe ke ghar tumhare
arey o mara patthar to phir kya hoga
battamizi pe hum a gaye to, tum sharifo ka phir kya hoga

behaya humko tumne banaya, jism bikata hai tumne sikhaya
behaya humko tumne banaya, jism bikata hai tumne sikhaya
ye na socha hai garmi ya sardi, rashte par mujhe na bithaya
jisne thukaraya usko jo maine, ho mari thokar to phir kya hoga
battamizi pe hum a gaye to, tum sharifo ka phir kya hoga

main jo aaina tumko dikhau, daag cheharo ke ginkar bataun
ha main jo aaina tumko dikhau, daag cheharo ke ginkar bataun
koi do char gus ho to bolu, ya tarazu pakad ke main tolu
harkate inki puchho na humse, o mara thapad to phir kya hoga
battamizi pe hum aa gaye to, tum sharifo ka phir kya hoga

main to badnam galiyo ki rani, kya mahobat ki chhedu kahani
ha main to badnam galiyo ki rani, kya mahobat ki chhedu kahani
maine chaha jise mit gaya wo, uski yade hai uski nishani
ho gaya jinda ek din jo markar, mera dilbar to phir kya hoga
ho battamizi pe hum a gaye to, tum sharifo ka phir kya hoga
hai shishe ke ghar tumhare
ho mara patthar to phir kya hoga
battamizi pe hum a gaye to, tum sharifo ka phir kya hoga

If a fault I commit, may you not take offense,
My words are weighty, though my mouth is small,
Do not laugh it off, give it no pretense,
I am of the marketplace, you stand tall.
You built dens of pleasure, veiled sins in the dark,

If we descend to vulgarity, what then?
What becomes of your delicate, refined mark?
Your houses are of glass, so fragile, thin,
If a stone I should hurl, then what pain?
If we descend to vulgarity, what then?

You made us shameless, taught us flesh for sale,
You taught us flesh for sale, the price of our skin,
Never thought of the cold or the gale,
You left me on the road, where do I begin?
If I kick those who spurned me, what then?
If we descend to vulgarity, what then?

If I hold a mirror to your face,
And count the blemishes, all you hold dear,
If I hold a mirror to your face,
Should I weigh them or tell of the tears?
Ask not of their actions, the world will see,
If a slap I should land, then what fear?
If we descend to vulgarity, what then?

I am the queen of infamous lanes,
How can I speak of love, how can I begin?
I am the queen of infamous lanes,
The one I loved, he vanished, a lesson within,
If he rises from death one day, my beloved,
If my lover should rise, then what within?
If we descend to vulgarity, what then?
Your houses are of glass, so fragile, thin,
If a stone I should hurl, then what pain?
If we descend to vulgarity, what then?