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Fed Up Lyrics
Artist: House Of Pain
Album: The Truth Crushed To Earth Shall Rise Again
Lord have mercy
Lord have mercy
I got demons running through my slate
They like to creep when my thoughts get deep
Scheming trying to find a place to fit in
And manifest itself in the form of a sin
If I was Rin Tin Tin Id rip the skin off of Lassie
The shit you talk is idle threatening to blast me
You high on gas like a rastaman bought it
Dont set it off kid and get me started
Cause youre highly regarded when youre dearly departed
But mommas still crying asking God why in
The world could you take her only child
When you was fronting on the streets like you was buckwild
To keep it real kid you gots to stay humble
You cant fumble and if you gots to rumble
Then word to Bryant Gumble Im a live for today
And God bless the man that steps in my way
Cause if I said it somebodys getting wetted
So just keep your cool and everythings copasetic
Pull out your heater kid spit your razor
And minell still be the intellect that plays ya
Cause when the mike check Im high tech skills are apparent
You can play the child kid Ill play the parent
Cause Im a be responsible for your schooling
But I wont change your diapers or do your car pooling
Chorus
Get up Ill break ya down a little something
Im fed up its time to go head hunting
Dead up too many crews be fronting
Im fed up its time to go head hunting
Get up Ill break ya down a little something
Im fed up its time to go head hunting
Dead up too many crews be fronting
Im fed up its time to go head hunting
Lord have some mercy on my soul
Whoa whoa
Now why everybody making shit thats unreal
Cause the (ayanon) man he wants mass appeal
Forgetting all about how its supposed to feel
Kids be going out for the record deal
So if you pull out the clap then bust your cap
Or Im a make like the van and drop bomb on your gat
But dont snap cause this aint HBO
Kid you got no Benz plus you got no dough
While you say that though you trying to gain that ho
Used to be you had to rhyme about stuff you know
I dont need MTV to make no bucks
I rock styles that make you say Ah who dat waz?
Who that was is the many boy I was sending all star players straight
back to the showers
Fake hard rocks are really just cowards
I master dub plates like my names Herb Powers
I getcha open like hunting season
I make papers dont front on the reason
Cause Im seizing up every day
You say carpe diem I call em like I see em
Chorus x3
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