House Of Pain

House Of Pain - Fed Up songtekst

Je score:

Lord have mercy
 I got demons running through my slate
 They like to creep when my thoughts get deep
 Scheming  trying to find a place to fit in
 And manifest itself in the form of a sin
 If I was Rin Tin Tin Id rip the skin off of Lassie
 The shit you talk is idle threatening to blast me
 You high on gas like a rastaman bought it
 Dont set it off kid and get me started
 Cause youre highly regarded when youre dearly departed
 But mommas still crying asking God why in
 The world could you take her only child
 When you was fronting on the streets like you was buckwild
 To keep it real kid you gots to stay humble
 You cant fumble and if you gots to rumble
 Then word to Bryant Gumble Im a live for today
 And God bless the man that steps in my way
 Cause if I said it somebodys getting wetted
 So just keep your cool and everythings copasetic
 Pull out your heater kid spit your razor
 And minell still be the intellect that plays ya
 Cause when the mike check Im high tech skills are apparent
 You can play the child kid Ill play the parent
 Cause Im a be responsible for your schooling
 But I wont change your diapers or do your car pooling

 Chorus

 Get up Ill break ya down a little something
 Im fed up its time to go head hunting
 Dead up too many crews be fronting
 Im fed up its time to go head hunting
 Get up Ill break ya down a little something
 Im fed up its time to go head hunting
 Dead up too many crews be fronting
 Im fed up its time to go head hunting

 Lord have some mercy on my soul
 Whoa whoa

 Now why everybody making shit thats unreal
 Cause the (ayanon) man he wants mass appeal
 Forgetting all about how its supposed to feel
 Kids be going out for the record deal
 So if you pull out the clap then bust your cap
 Or Im a make like the van and drop bomb on your gat
 But dont snap cause this aint HBO
 Kid you got no Benz plus you got no dough
 While you say that though you trying to gain that ho
 Used to be you had to rhyme about stuff you know
 I dont need MTV to make no bucks
 I rock styles that make you say Ah who dat waz?
 Who that was is the many boy I was sending all star players straight
 back to the showers
 Fake hard rocks are really just cowards
 I master dub plates like my names Herb Powers
 I getcha open like hunting season
 I make papers dont front on the reason
 Cause Im seizing up every day
 You say carpe diem I call em like I see em

 Chorus x3
Vind dit lied op:
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Copyrights:

Auteur: Bob Crewe, Charlie Calello, Erik Schrody, Leor Dimant

Componist: ?

Publisher: Tommy Boy Music

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 2009

Taal: Engels

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