Music World
 
Исполнители:
 
 
 
English versionSwitch to English 
House Of Pain


Информация
Откуда Los Angeles, California, United States
Жанры Hip-hop
Годы 1991—н.в.
Лейблы Tommy Boy Records
См. также B-Real
DJ Muggs
Rage Against the Machine
Cypress Hill
Helmet
La Coka Nostra
Limp Bizkit
Pete Rock
Funkdoobiest
Butch Vig
Sadat X
Guru
Son Doobie
Lordz of Brooklyn
Состав
Everlast
DJ Lethal
Danny Boy



Альбом House Of Pain


Fine Malt Lyrics (1992)
1992
1.
2.
3.
4.
Top O' The Morning To Ya
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
. . .


Yo, the time has come for everyone to clean up their own backyard
Before they go knocking on their neighbour's door
The House of Pain is cleaning up, sweeping up, clocking up
Check it. Check yourself before you check another.
It's the House of Pain!

. . .


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

. . .


I rip shit like a bow when I flow
When I score points with the joints that I throw
Cause I flow deadly
I'm no punk see
I break backs, make tracks and get funky
There's now where to run to cause nobody cares
MC's drop to your knees, say your prayers
The luck of the Irish is about to kick in
Prepare to die and notify your next of kin
I'm goin' all out, buck, duck and call out
That's how I'm livin, punk you better call out
This is the House of Pain
To come inside is insane

[Chorus]

I'll put your head out [4x]
Jump up spread out
I'll put your head out
I'll put your head out
Put put your head out
Jump up spread out
I'll put your head out

Hey what up punk?(punk)
I'll put your head out
Who steps the booze
When the hoods wanna take a cruise
They're feelin' the effects of the booze
Ain't no clues to hold with them fools
Who got smoked even though they scrat crews
You got bruise but I got the booma
Trigger to blast ya askin the bull
Take my life shit, I'll take you to school
In the do what's the difference if your think of droppin Jews
Carbon copy think you're so cool
Stop dreamin' and hallucinatin'
You're caught up in a piece of pain
Clip clip, punk, now you're thinkin' oh shit
Quit while you're ahead before I fill you full of lead

[Chorus]

Blessed with the gift, and gifts with the rhyme
I never say quit when I'm out to get mine
It's live and let die, sit back and get high
Smokin' a fat blunt, waitin' for some punk
To act up like he's got somethin' in him
Then I grab the mike and start spittin' out venom
Coughin' up headstones, blowin' out headphones
Steppin' to me, you'll wind up in the Dead Zone
It's nothin' personal, that's how it goes, G
Step up with beef, and you'll wind up losin' teeth
Cause I don't give up the mike that easy
Step back, this ain't government cheese, G
You can stand in line, but you ain't gettin' it
Talk all the shit you want, but I ain't sweatin' it

[Chorus]

. . .

Top O' The Morning To Ya

[Нет текста]

. . .


He who breaks the law goes back to the House Of Pain [2x]

I rock the ill shit, ya know I kill shit
And then I build shit, get off my dills nit
Cause I don't play that, my style goes way back
I kick my shit one time, dude, fuck the playback
I go off my head, you know I shave my shit
And ya don't quit, I say you don't quit
Cause I'm the prodigal son, ya get well done
Just like a steak, gimme a break
Like Nel Carter
There's tarter on your teeth, homeboy ya got beef
Well then ya get broke, because my crew's no joke
The House Of Pain
Is kickin' up dirt and therefore inside the jam
Ya know we're liftin' up skirts, grabbin' on the snatch
Feelin' on the skin, I'm knockin' on your door
Honey let me in
Cause I'm down with the freak mo baby
I'm at my sexual peak, young lady
Ain't nobody cooler than my man Son Doobie
Don't ya fuck around, I'll smack your knuckles with a ruler
Just like a nun from a catholic school
I'll make ya drool, and play the fool
Snatch ya by the ears, smack ya up like a queer
Take a puff off my blunt, and then sip my beer
Kick the mean style, leave bodies in a pile
Everlast is my name, I'm from the House Of Pain
You know that I never play the punk role
Cause I'm a white Irish man with a funk soul

[Chorus]

That's what it is y'all
that's what it is (That's what it is) [4x]

Smooth like Beretta, quicker than the Jedi
You're soft like a feather, you little bed wetter
Baby, baby, I heard you caught the rabies
Bitin' on my shit, I have to say haybee
Son'll be rockin' until tomorrow
Cause I've got the right on, like Ray Charles
Follow, swallow, the funky pass the bottle
Cause I get recked like if I crashed my auto
I'll play it, I'll win it
I've done it, I did it
Some say I'm kiddin'
But right at this minute
I'll freak it, I'll funk it
And like a country bumbkin
From Albakerque who's gonna carve the turkey
Ready, serve, entertain like Merv
Griffin, sniffin' panties, I'm a prev
The Dooby funk fellow, smooth like a jello
Some say mellow, complicated like a dello
The freakin' who's speakin'
Freaks it every weekend
Cause I'll be trick or treatin'
I used to drive a Lincoln
Drivin', speedin', hey rid, I'm readin'
I make more money than that kid Alex Keaton

[Chorus]

I rip flesh, yes y'all, run for the mess hall
And get your grub while I'm rhymin' on your dub
Gettin' play at the club, then I step to the pub
And crack a brew, what the fuck ya gonna do? (Drop it)
I rip shit, kill it, cut your gut and spill it
Treat ya like a gas tank, take your ass and fill it
And take ya for a ride to where I reside
Put your face in my pillow, and have ya weepin' like a willow
I tax that but, wax that ass
Floss a nut in your teeth, then wait for you to beef

[Chorus (2x)]

. . .


I kicks the flava, like Steven King writes horror

If I was a Jew then I'd light a menorah
I got rhymes for ya, excuse me senora
Are you a hore or are you a lady?
Is it Erica Boyare or Marcia Brady?
Let me know hon, the deed'll get done
Just assume the position, I'll take my rod
And then I'll go fishin', I'll get your river flowin'
When it comes to givin' pleasure, I'm every woman's treasure
I came to work your body, so let me do my job
I've never been laid off, my rhymin' skill paid off
Cause now I'm makin' records, now I'm makin' tapes
Steady bustin' suckers in bunches like grapes
Makin' all the papes, scoopin' up the loot
Puttin' suckers on the run, pull my gun and then I shoot
I never been a front, I never a fraud
I gotta natural skill, for that I thank the Lord
Cause I feel blessed, I'm casually dressed
I always got my gun, but I never wear a vest
I'm quick on the draw like the horse named McGraw
From the cartoon ÿÿoon ÿÿaw
From the cartoon ÿÿaw
From the cartoon ÿÿaw
From the cartoon ÿÿÛ(Andre)

No, no, no

My baby don't mess around
Because she loves me so
And this I know for sure
But does she really wanna
But can't stand to see me walk out the door
Don't try to fight the feeling
'Cause the thought alone
Is killing me right now
Thank God for Mum and Dad
For sticking through together
'Cause we don't know how

Hey Ya.. Hey Ya
(We don't know how)
Hey Ya.. Hey Ya
(Hey ya)
Hey Ya.. Hey Ya
Hey Ya.. Hey Ya

You think you've got it
No, you think you've got it
But you just don't get it
'Til there's nothing at all
We've together
Oh, we've together
But separate's better
When there's feelings involved
If what you say is nothing, nothing's forever
Then why you, why you, why you here together

Hey Ya.. Hey Ya
(Why you here?)
Hey Ya.. Hey Ya
(Why you here?)
Hey Ya.. Hey Ya
(I don't know why)
Hey Ya.. Hey Ya

Hey Ya.. Hey Ya
Hey Ya.. Hey Ya
Hey Ya.. Hey Ya
Hey Ya.. Hey Ya

'Cause there's nothing to prove
Nothing will last last forever
Nothing, nothing at all
Nothing will last last forever
Nothing, nothing at all

Hey Ya

. . .


House Of Pain Anthem
I'm a wood peckin' peckerwood
Take me out, ya never could
Act up in my neighbourhood
You better not, my aim is good
The House Of Pain is not a gang
Just a funky Irish name
A Celtic savage makin' cabbage
With corn beef on the side
Irish pride is what I got
I got alot so don't dispute it
Constantly I'm suited
If ya got a gun then shoot it
Pick any beat I rock it
I'm always in the pocket
You try to ill, I grab my gat
And now you see my cock it
Next I pull the trigger
I don't care if you're bigger
You try to con yourself you're bulletproof
But how ya figure?
The caps that I'll be poppin'
They'll have your body droppin'
You thought you knew the deal
But now you feel your heartbeat stoppin'
I'm moppin' up the comp
That's short for compitition
I write my lyrics like
The Irish mob in Hell's Kitchen

[Chorus]

The House Of Pain in effect, y'all
I say the House Of Pain is in effect
You know the House Of Pain is in effect y'all
And anyone that steps up in gettin' wrecked
I'm a beer drinkin' fighter
The bike in Easy Rider
I only roll my spliffs
With the extra easy whiters
Papers to vapors
Is what you'll all be catchin'
Meanwhile I'll be snatchin'
Up your hoes and all your dough
The styles that I'll be kickin'
You know they're finger lickin'
Good, the peckerwood never could play the victim
Only the offender
I go out on a bender
Drink a case of brew
And then disgrace the crew
But only if it's mickeys
I never wear no dickeys
Only wear the Levi's
My whole family cries

[Chorus]

. . .


Peckerwood, peckerwood, tell me your tale
Please do explain why your skin's so pale
And you're so funky, now how can that be
Like a bird in a tree on the TLP
It's the Irish intellect, no one disrespected
My shit'll get hectic real quick
This is the House Of Pain (pain)
And pain is one thing we're not
Cause we know we've got
Style and fashion, smoke some hash and
I'm smackin' up girls like cars were crashin'
Danny Boy, Danny Boy, the pipes are callin'
Thought you was a winner, ya was, now you're all in
That's right, damn skimpy, ya can't get with me
I run the whole track and leave ya three laps back
Chop seuy don't do me no good
I gotta have corn beef and cabbage, if I wanna manage
I never eat pig, but I'll fuck up a potato
I'm not a dago, but pasta's all that
My pockets stay phat, so step the fuck back
You wanna move on me, you better bring an army
I rip shit daily, ask my man Tom Baily
I'm rockin' the clock like if I was Bill Hailey
I'm cockin' my glock, and I got my shileighly
So watch your lady, because I'm

(Danny Boy!) Danny Boy
(Danny Boy!) You know it's Danny Boy
(Danny Boy!) 'S Danny Boy
(Danny Boy!) You know it's Danny Boy
(Danny Boy!) 'S Danny Boy
(Danny Boy!) You know it's Danny Boy

(Da ney Boy, Da Da ney Boy)
Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountainside

. . .


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]

. . .


Yea, check it out now
Everybody check it out now
Yo, I got the corn beef
I got the moz
I got the shotty
Ay yo, I got the buck shot
Ay yo, I got the burgers
I got the grill
If you're steppin' up next
Ya better flex that skill
The House Of Pain is in full effect
Everybody in the place give full respect
If your girl's in the house keep the ho in check
And if I'm bustin' off caps, you better hit the deck
Steppin' on stage with the fly routines
I'm hemmin' up suckers like bell bottom jeans
I always switch trains in Jamaica, Queens
When I go to by the street to see my Aunt Ilene
Danny Boy's comin' with the Irish style
The money back guarantee, I make it worth your while
I'm layin' out fools like kitchen tile
You come around with a frown, and ya leave in a pile
Step back man, I ain't a black man
But everytime I grab the mike I rock a phat jam
Without the Slimfast, and if I skim past
You know I step up and get a ho with gym blast
I give her what she wants, even if she fronts
The Hill is down with the House, they got the philly blunts
Ya know we roll 'em up, and then we light 'em up
And then we puff them up and pass them
So Danny Boy blasts 'em
I got the shell-toed Adidas, with the fat strings
The Celtic crosses, and the claudor rings
The straight edges razor and the marther pump
You heard me shit clickin', now it's time to jump
Jump around just like a frog on a log
Fuck the Dukes because I like Boss Hogg
I'm hittin' home runs like my man Wade Boggs
And if you try to act stupid, I'm droppin' the dogs
Every time I go to town
People start kickin' my dog around
It makes no difference if my dog's a hound (hound)
You better stop kickin' my dog around

[Chorus]
Put on your shit kickers and kick some shit [4x]

Now I've droppin' records since the age of seventeen
First I came solo, but I now I got a team
It's the four man crew, with the Irish stew
You catch us puffin' on a blunt, and sippin' a brew
What's up with that brew, man, hurry up and finish
Now grab the bar maid and order me another Guinness
You can drink the Guiness while I'm sippin' on the mickeys
When it comes to hookers, yo, the Everlast is picky
Always got my hat in case I come across a quicky
And when I do my shows I get the hoes all hot and sticky
The House Of Pain is in full effect, yea
I say the House Of Pain is in full effect
You know the House Of Pain is in full effect, yea
And anyone who steps up is gettin' wrecked

[Chorus (x2)]

Check it out now! Owww!
I said the House Of Pain!
We out

. . .


Step to this Irish mac daddy
I'll light your ass up and smoke you like a fag
With the whole crew we'll take you for a long ride
Little did you know you on the wrong side, son
I got the gun and I'm not scared to use it
Put your life on the line, homeboy you lose it
That how it goes, homes
I blow domes when I rock mircophones
I can get swift to the riff from an old jam
I'm wise like an old man and don't take shit from no clan
Or crew, or gang, or crew, or club
Wack MC's tryin' to rhyme it with my dub
Fuck the bullshit, the piece gets pulled quick
Fourteen pulls on my trigger, that's the whole clip
And if there's anyone still standin' thinkin' that their runnin'shit
They can come and get some of this

[Chorus]
Come and get some of this [4x]

Come and get some of this over here
If not, stand clear and you got nothin' to fear
I'm livin' in a state of grace and it's a fucked up place
I'll put my gun in your face
If you set up you'll get broke up
It's no joke, blood
I write rhymes, drink beer, fight, smoke bud
That's all I do, it's all I need
I buck down a little sucker just to watch him bleed
That's my style, it's how I do my thing
This is the House Of Pain and I'm the king
I come real with it, can ya deal with it
Or will ya run for shelter, though you barely felt the
House Of Pain in full effect, and if you come with disrespect
You can:

[Chorus]

. . .


Remember when the shit hit the fan
and the man wanted to know which way you ran?

(Life goes on) [4x]

Back it up, smack it up, pop your corn
I got more style than Son Doobie's got horn
Top o the morn, rise and shine
LA swine, got no spine
Drop that stick, pig, my crew's real thick
Drop your gun, pig, and get a real dick
I got my gat cause I don't trust ya
Play me close and make me nervous, I'll bust ya
LA's no joke, the cops don't care
They'll beat ya down till there's just a fuckin' hair
Of life left in ya, then they'll pin ya
Way out in Wayside, watch your backside
White and black crime is what goes on
And life goes on

[Chorus]
And life goes on [13x]

And on and on till the break of dawn
And on to the next day, ay yo, by the way
Did you know about the science of creation
About the Masons, about their nation
Of disarm, this arm, a lega lega or a head
To the thirty-third degree, you know that's me
Ease back, so ease off or I'll squeeze off
My clip, please don't trip, or we's gonna flip
The House Of Pain makes clouds a rains
On parades, I wear shades when it's sunny
Sometimes I rock funny, I ain't in it for the money
But I get mine before the show goes on
And life goes on

[Chorus]

. . .


Huh! Check it out! Everybody in the house, check it out!
The House Of Pain is in full effect

Call me the corn fed, peckerwood, redneck cracker
White bread, shit kickin' Irish beat jacker
Comin' with the style of a Celtic rebel
Those who ain't on my level call me the blue eyed devil
But that's just because they don't know what I know
And that's just because they can't flow like I flow
I rip shit, dip shit, so what you gotta say
Why you wanna play, I fuck you up with no delay
And knock your motherfucking fronts out
Smoke my philly blunts out, my buddha never runs out
I turn the little scunts out
And I got the hookers callin' me pops
Once their cherry pops, Everlast gets all the props
I'm hittin' skins from here to Copenhagen
I bed the wenches cause you know I'm a pagan
The House Of Pain, that's the name of my crew
You don't like it, tough luck, what the fuck you gonna do
Nothin', you ain't sayin' nothin'
You need to start puffin' and relax
Or you'll wind up gettin' taxed
For your money, for your jewels, for your car, for your ho
My crew, they start trippin' while I'm rippin' up the show

[Chorus]
Mickey Mouse, you know he's in the house
I said Mickey Mouse, you know he's in the house

One for the road, this is one for the road
For my man Matt Champy, this is one for the road
Tura lura lura, tura lura lie
Tura lura lura, that's an Irish lullaby
No need to act fly, you'll be sayin' nighty-night
The place you're in is right if you're lookin' for a fight
Step up, your blood, I spill it
Put on the beat, I kill it
I'll burn ya like some bacon that's been fryin' in my skillet
Move over Sizzlean, my favorite color's green
But I'll beat ya black and blue, cause I'm always with my crew

[Chorus (x2)]

. . .


Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we got Bo, Duke and Daisy goin' to
go see Boss Hogg. Then ya got Kooter fixin' over them cars...
I don't need a glock cause I'm not a hard rock
Got bitches on my jock, like New Kids On The Block
I can't lose like Parker Lewis, I'm undefeated
Step into my sector, homeboy, you'll get greeted
By the 380 colt mustang in my pocket
I had a few drinks already, don't make me cock it
Cause if I have to cock it, well then it's gettin' shot
And if it's gettin' shot, well, yo, you're gettin' bucked down
I don't fuck around, I ain't got time for punks
But I got time to smoke all the skunk philly blunts
Stunts gather round, check out the sound
And let's get down to do the nasty, freaky, funky
Stinky, junky, let's bump uglies in the nighttime
Between the sheets
Cause I rock fly rhymes over funky beats
The Celtic ruin, the legion of doom
Now gimme the track, or with the fat back doom
Now gimme some room, and I'll explode
Cock back my hammer, then squeeze off my load
So hit the road, Jack, and don't come back no more
Or I'll be moppin' up the floor with your crew of soft core
Punk pussy bitches, jail house snitches
On stage, I get wrecked and I collect my riches
I get the funky style, and like Gomer Pile
You'll be 'Surprise surprise surprise!' as I
Rise to the top, fuck a punk cop
I'm always hip-hop, only a pimple goes pop
So you better quit, zit
I came to rip shit
Blastin' with the Soul Assassins
Askin' the question, teachin' the lesson
Bringin' the West Coast back to the East Coast
Where it all started, what're you, retarded
You're startin' to trip from that Jheri curl drip
Soakin' in your brain, the House Of Pain
Is causin' pain, and feelin' pain
So feel it

[Chorus]
Just feel it
Feel it
Just feel it
C'mon, y'all, feel it

Back to the rhyme, I'm always on time
A lime to a lemon, yo, a lemon to a lime
I rock the old school style and it's futile
To step up, cause you'll get swept up
Like dust, or I just might bust and unload my clip
Unless you're a punk, then I'll just pop you in the lip
And show you the deal, now how did that feel
You know I'm killin' any pig that squeals
I'm fillin' up reels of tape with my fly rhymes
And I've got a subsciption to High Times
Son Dooby's in the back, the Mexican Ralph Emms is on the track
My DJ Lethal, he's on the cut
When I bust a dope rhyme, it's like bustin' a nut
So let me jerk off on the mic and get it sticky
When I drink a brew it's either Guinness or mickeys
I'll put your head out just like a fuckin' Malboro
Don't fuck with me, punk, you know that I'm thorough
Bred like a race horse, right-in-your-face force
Feedin' you beats, straight off the streets
So catch me catch me, if you can
You know I'm the man like Chewbacca knows Han
Solo, bolos are what I'll be throwin'
When I be flowin', I get the job done
Cause I'm number one, the Prodigal Son
I left and I came back, but not with the same rap
And not with the same style, I'm known to get buckwild
The luck of the Irish spreads like a virus
So feel it

. . .


(Gets all my love) [4x]
Pick up the pace, keep it, freak it
Can ya keep a secret, so can I
Why ask why, try Bud dry, I get fly smokin' a thai
Puffin' a blunt, tokin' a spliff
Stoppin' any crew that tries to rip
The House Of Pain, Cypress Hill
Funkdoobiest, my girl's on the pill
So I can drill, and not have to kill
An unborn child cause that's just wild
I felt the pain, I built the house
All respect due to Mickey Mouse
Club, I'm rhymin' on the dub
Switch off the track so I can shout out my love
Yea, you know my mother, she gets all my love
My sister Casandra, my neice Jessica Rose, they get all my love
Danny Boy gets all my love
My DJ Lethal, he gets all my love
Cypress Hill, they get all my love
Son Doobie the Vocal Avenger, he gets all my love
Ralph Emms the Mexican gets all my love
The Divine Styler, he gets all my love
Bronx Style Bob and Claudia, they get all love
My man Wise Guy gets all my love
Yes, you know my man Matt Champy gets all my love, rest in peace my brother
I know you in a better place now than when you were here
Kahaku gets all my love
My man Cameron, First Born, Scribbles, and ATA, they get all my love
Cause those are my boys, ya know, ha ha
My man Al B. gets all my love
Good lookin' out, my brother
Yea, my man Balthazar get even the thirteenth floor get all my love
My man Captain Rudethrow gets all my love
Yes, Kid Jazz and Kid Scratch, they get all my love
Up in the boogie down Bronx
I don't forget
Yes, and for inspiration, I'd like to thank Allah

He gets all my love [7x]

. . .


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]

Listen to the sound that pounds, I jump around
I'm no clown, I get down
To the funk, listen to the wig out
And step to the rear, dear, cause I'm here
The P to the E to the T E rockin'
The runs in your stockin'
So hon, put the lock in
Chillin' with the House Of Pain
Blood stains the ground
Huh, I jump around
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]

. . .


Смотри также:

комментарии публикуются при поддержке Disqus



© 2011 Music World. Все права сохранены.