Welcome!
Login
|
Register
Artist
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M
N
O
P
Q
R
S
T
U
V
W
X
Y
Z
#
Title
Artist
Song title:
House Of Pain - Feel It
Edit By:
3.149.234.141
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 dont need a glock cause Im not a hard rock Got bitches on my jock, like new kids on the block I cant lose like parker lewis, Im undefeated Step into my sector, homeboy, youll get greeted By the 380 colt mustang in my pocket I had a few drinks already, dont make me cock it Cause if I have to cock it, well then its gettin shot And if its gettin shot, well, yo, youre gettin bucked down I dont fuck around, I aint got time for punks But I got time to smoke all the skunk philly blunts Stunts gather round, check out the sound And lets get down to do the nasty, freaky, funky Stinky, junky, lets 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 Ill explode Cock back my hammer, then squeeze off my load So hit the road, jack, and dont come back no more Or Ill 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 Youll be surprise surprise surprise! as i Rise to the top, fuck a punk cop Im 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, whatre you, retarded Youre 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 Cmon, yall, feel it Back to the rhyme, Im always on time A lime to a lemon, yo, a lemon to a lime I rock the old school style and its futile To step up, cause youll get swept up Like dust, or I just might bust and unload my clip Unless youre a punk, then Ill just pop you in the lip And show you the deal, now how did that feel You know Im killin any pig that squeals Im fillin up reels of tape with my fly rhymes And Ive got a subsciption to high times Son doobys in the back, the mexican ralph emms is on the track My dj lethal, hes on the cut When I bust a dope rhyme, its like bustin a nut So let me jerk off on the mic and get it sticky When I drink a brew its either guinness or mickeys Ill put your head out just like a fuckin malboro Dont fuck with me, punk, you know that Im 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 Im the man like chewbacca knows han Solo, bolos are what Ill be throwin When I be flowin, I get the job done Cause Im number one, the prodigal son I left and I came back, but not with the same rap And not with the same style, Im known to get buckwild The luck of the irish spreads like a virus So feel it
All lyrics are property of their respective authors, artists and labels and are strictly for non-commercial use only.
Copyright © 2009-2024 Azlyricdb.com. All Rights Reserved |
Privacy policy
|
Blog