Tha Brathaz Of Art

Объявление

Введите здесь ваше объявление.

Информация о пользователе

Привет, Гость! Войдите или зарегистрируйтесь.


Вы здесь » Tha Brathaz Of Art » Gangsta Shit » Лирика House Of Pain


Лирика House Of Pain

Сообщений 1 страница 3 из 3

1

:D Jump Around:
Pack it up, pack it in
Let me begin
I came to win
Battle me that's a sin
I won't tear the sack up
Punk you'd better back up
Try and play the role and the whole crew will act up
Get up, stand up, come on!
Come on, throw your hands up
If you've got the feeling jump across the ceiling
Muggs is a funk fest, someone's talking junk
Yo, I'll bust em in the eye
And then I'll take the punks home
Feel it, funk it
Amps it are junking
And I got more rhymes than there's cops that are dunking
Donuts shop
Sure 'nuff I got props from the kids on the Hill
Plus my mom and my pops

[Chorus]

I came to get down [2x]
So get out your seats and jump around
Jump around [3x]
Jump up Jump up and get down.
Jump [18x]
I'll serve your ass like John MacEnroe
If your steps up, I'm smacking the ho
Word to your moms I came to drop bombs
I got more rhymes than the bible's got psalms
And just like the Prodigal Son I've returned
Anyone stepping to me you'll get burned
Cause I got lyrics and you ain't got none
So if you come to battle bring a shotgun
But if you do you're a fool, cause I duel to the death
Try and step to me you'll take your last breath
I gots the skill, come get your fill
Cause when I shoot ta give, I shoot to kill

[Chorus]

I'm the cream of the crop, I rise to the top
I never eat a pig cause a pig is a cop
Or better yet a terminator
Like Arnold Schwarzenegger
Try'n to play me out like as if my name was Sega
But I ain't going out like no punk bitch
Get used to one style and you know I might switch
It up up and around, then buck buck you down
Put out your head then you wake up in the Dawn of the Dead
I'm coming to get ya, coming to get ya
Spitting out lyrics homie I'll wet ya

[Chorus]
Jump [32x]

Yo, this is dedicated
To Joe, da flava, Dakota
Grag yo bozac, punk

0

2

:D Who's The Man:
I used to kick it with the thugs, pushin' drugs in the park
Makin' every mark that was out after dark
Stick 'em for their loot, cut em up then I'd dash
And when I had to shoot, I'd nutted up for the cash
Ran down the block with my 45 glock
Capped off a round, everybody hit the ground
The next thing I heard was a siren
Couldn't turn around, money grip kept firin'
Runnin' for the ride, I can't go inside
I'd rather that I died, I got too much pride
I guess it's just somethin' that you can't understand
My gun's in my hand, tell me who's the man?

[Chorus (x4)]
Who's the man with the master plan?
Who's the man? Who's the man?

I used to sell ya yo back in the day-o
Ran with the gang, had all the homie's slang
Grams to the quarters, I'm takin' all the orders
Makin' all the runs, Rakin' in the funds
I always got my gun, it's the old six-shooter
King of the neighborhood, crazy white peckerwood
Now people thinkin' Danny lost his mind
It must've been from all the wine man and all the hardtimes
Like chillin' in the park in the dark with the crew
I'm always gettin' high, I saw my man die
Now I got the work and the dough, 25 grand and a 5 keys of blow
I gotta' relocate and start all over
But watch it blow up like a supernova
I keep my game in tight and follow the plan
My gun's in my hand, tell me who's the man?

[Chorus (x4)]

I got myself locked down in the pen
I ain't got a friend, so here I go again
I gotta' get my props up and earn my respect
Gotta' shake someone up or throw 'em off the top deck
My time's runnin' out, I gotta' spill some blood
If I don't do it quick, shit, my name'll be mud
So I pick out a hardrock and rush him in his cell
Beat his ass down and then say that he fell
And if I gotta' do him, screw him, the convict's dead
I'll stab him in the chest, just another
Of the cell block know that I'm nobody's ho
My shanks in my hand so tell me who's the man?

[Chorus (x4)]

0

3

:D Guess Who's Back:
I got the skills to pay the bills
I don't pop pills but I send chills
Up your spine when I rhyme
I get wicked, you got a booger, pick it
Sippin' on the 40, ya know it makes me horny
Spread them legs, grab my axe
Fire up the grill and crack the kegs
Nobody fear, the party's here
Everlast is comin', the funky drummer's drummin'
Ya only came backstage to make the front page
To get me locked up, or get yourself knocked up
But I ain't with it, even if I did it
I got a hundred homeboys to say I didn't hit it
My name's Everlast, I got the funky rhymes
I make more papers than the LA Times
I don't do lines, but I puff blunts
I don't rock fronts, but I stuff stunts
Fill 'em to the brim like a cup of coffee
If ya don't know me, homey, back up off me
Cause I ain't soft, see, I'll fly ahead
You wind up dead, you made your bed
Now ya gotta lie in it, don't bother tryin' it
Take my advice, homeboy, think twice
Before you step up, step back
Or catch a smack, guess who's back

[Chorus]

(He's back) Guess who's back (Everybody's in the street) [4x]
(He's back) (Everybody's in the street) [3x]
(He's back) [2x]

He's back from the dead, with the shaved head
Don't start to trip, dip, I brought my lead
Just in case you wanna fuck around
I'll stare ya dead in the face, and then I'll buck ya down
I'll put ya six feet deep, some say talk's cheap
But I make big bucks servin' up punk ducks
By the pound, I got the sound
I never been checked, I only get wrecked
I kick the willy drag, let my pants sag
Don't give up the booty, cause I ain't no fag
Checkin' out checkit, I'm prone to wreck shit
If ya dig this joint, check the next shit
I'm Everlast and it's a natural fact
That the white man is back

[Chorus]

I'll eat you up like some butter cups from Reeses
I come in peace, but you'll leave in pieces
That's how I'm livin', that's how it goes
Everyday I'm sleepin', every night I'm doin' shows
Always gettin' hoes when there's hoes to get got
Always wear my hat so I never need a shot
Always drink a beer before I write a rhyme
And if I have to drive I avoid the one time
Stay between the lines and I won't get pulled over
I don't need luck cause I got a four leaf clover
Yea I'm Irish, word to the motherland
But on the otherhand
I love America, apple pie, mom and all that
My pockets stay phat, step the fuck back
Play me close and you catch a mean dose
Of my fist, homeboy you get dissed

[Chorus]

0


Вы здесь » Tha Brathaz Of Art » Gangsta Shit » Лирика House Of Pain


Создать форум. Создать магазин