House Of Pain

Текст песни Fed Up Remix

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Композиторы:
  • Gutierrez
  • Eric / Mayorga
  • Oscar
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House Of Pain - Текст песни Fed Up Remix

But they're all playing roles just like Omar Epps

I see so many players I wonder where the coach is

My name's Everlast I'm hard to kill like roaches

The dough that you're making has got you fronting and faking

Your heart's been shook your brain's cooked like bacon

Can't believe you're not butter you thought you was on it

Out trying to flaunt it but it's just Blue Bonnet

And now it's my turn kid watch me churn

There's only so many spots they're had to earn

Pack it up pack it in

Let me begin

Too many men are judged by the color of their skin

Their apparatus gets blessed,

suckers get put to rest

The more damn pure

I got the cure for this fest

The wackness is spreading like a plague

MC's, they wanna get paid

But they cant make the fuckin' grade

How many times you wannabe's gonna try?

Yo they just style like dockers

They cant touch the knowelege I disordify

I tavel through the darkness carrying my torch like a soldier

When I'm holdin down the fort

For some time, now

Others callin it manuscript

When I stop to go a top

They be like Damn he flipped

Now I'm sick, and fed up wit that bullshit

I got that lyrical front tip

When you sell out to appeal to the masses

You have to go back and enroll in some classes

All you worthless pieces start shaking your asses

All you blunt holders take two pulls and pass it

Back in '89 I dropped too much acid

Rock from Lake Habasoo out to Lake Placid

While you busy ragging on the people you blasted

I'm asking how many days have you fasted

[Chorus]

Get up I'll break ya down a little something

I'm fed up it's time to go head hunting

Dead up too many crews be fronting

I'm fed up it's time to go head hunting

Get up I'll break ya down a little something

I'm fed up it's time to go head hunting

Dead up too many crews be fronting

I'm fed up it's time to go head hunting

I'm sick, demented, I smack my managerHouse Of Pain - Fed Up Remix - http://ru.motolyrics.com/house-of-pain/fed-up-remix-lyrics.html

The flow thats flessin

I'm adressing all ya'll imatures

Cause to your back, I got the "Tre Piounce Piete"

Tell me why you tryin' to claim that you a gansta', baby?

But let's suppose you really had a burner (suppose)

You would still need some lessons on how to hold it firmer

Fuck a murder I'm a just kill your ego

Cause we know that you ain't really got no people

Murdering a prop my man this my homey that

You need to get the fuck out my face cause you don't know me jack

Eney, meeny, miney, moe

I put seeds in your mental and I watch em grow

Turn on the instrument and then clock my flow

Put the dough in my pocket and I rock the show

Cause I know and you this is how we go

Somalaku to the Muslim

Shalom to the Hebrew

Geed lust envy sloth gluttony pride and wrath do the math

These seven deadly sins represent my jinn

You scheming on testing me kid where you been

I been told all my life I'm my only friend

There's a killer on the road money it's the end

And you might think that I'm a dummy

But while you're out at the spot I'm homes' chilling with your honey

I kicks flavor

Like Steven King I write the horror

If you wanna see tomorrow when I lead you're best to follow

Or you'll be left along the road in the dust (in the dust)

And me and you won't have too much to discuss

I dont know why

MC's will come to test for ionide

Master of myself, my wealth

It's just my state of mind

I stack my loot

Just for a rainy day

And you can parch on your forty

Cause rappers I slay

I'm the quick draw

The outlaw

I doubt ya'll

Ready to fuck with me

So boy stop

Or, I'm a beat your ass

Like your pops

Hit the real estate money and then the props

[Chorus]

House Of Pain Fed Up Remix

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