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HOUSE OF PAIN - Fed Up Added by Site Admin on 2003-10-06 09:10:44
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Lord have mercyLord have mercyI got demons running through my slateThey like to creep when my thoughts get deepScheming, trying to find a place to fit inAnd manifest itself in the form of a sinIf I was rin tin tin I'd rip the skin off of lassieThe shit you talk is idle threatening to blast meYou high on gas like a rastaman bought itDon't set it off kid and get me startedCause you're highly regarded when you're dearly departedBut momma's still crying asking God why inThe world could you take her only childWhen you was fronting on the streets like you was buckwildTo keep it real kid you gots to stay humbleYou can't fumble and if you gots to rumbleThen word to bryant gumble I'm a live for todayAnd God bless the man that steps in my wayCause if I said it somebody's getting wettedSo just keep your cool and everything's copaseticPull out your heater kid spit your razorAnd mine'll still be the intellect that plays yaCause when the mike check I'm high tech skills are apparentYou can play the child kid I'll play the parentCause I'm a be responsible for your schoolingBut I won't change your diapers or do your car poolinChorusGet up I'll break ya down a little somethen'I'm fed up it's time to go head huntin'Dead up too many crews be frontin'I'm fed up it's time to go head huntin'Get up I'll break ya down a little somethin'I'm fed up it's time to go head huntin'Dead up too many crews be frontin'I'm fed up it's time to go head huntin'Lord have some mercy on my soulNow why everybody making shit that's unrealCause the (ayanon) man he wants mass appealForgetting all about how it's supposed to feelKids be going out for the record dealSo if you pull out the clap then bust your capOr I'm a make like the man and drop bomb on your gatBut don't snap cause this ain't hboKid you got no benz plus you got no doughWhile you say that though you trying to gain that hoUsed to be you had to rhyme about stuff you knowI don't need mtv to make no bucksI rock styles that make you say ¡°ah who dat waz? ¡±Who that was is the man of all hoursSending all star players straight back to the showersFake hard rocks are really just cowardsI master dub plates like my name's herb powersI getcha open like hunting seasonI make papers don't front on the reasonCause I'm seizing up every dayYou say carpe diem I call em like I see emChorus 3
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Fed Up lyrics @ Lyricsty.com