House Of Pain - Fed Up Lyrics

Send "Fed Up" ringtone to your cell

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 i'd 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

Don't set it off kid and get me started

Cause you're highly regarded when you're dearly departed

But momma's 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 can't fumble and if you gots to rumble

Then word to bryant gumble i'm a live for today

And god bless the man that steps in my way

Cause if i said it somebody's getting wetted

So just keep your cool and everything's copasetic

Pull out your heater kid spit your razor

And mine'll still be the intellect that plays ya

Cause when the mike check i'm high tech skills are apparent

You can play the child kid i'll play the parent

Cause i'm a be responsible for your schooling

But i won't change your diapers or do your car poolin

Lyrics provided by http://www.kovideo.net/

Source - http://www.kovideo.net/fed-up-lyrics-house-of-pain-400771.html

Chorus

Get 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 soul

Now why everybody making shit that's unreal

Cause the (ayanon) man he wants mass appeal

Forgetting all about how it's supposed to feel

Kids be going out for the record deal

So if you pull out the clap then bust your cap

Or i'm a make like the man and drop bomb on your gat

But don't snap cause this ain't 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 don't need mtv to make no bucks

I rock styles that make you say ¡°ah who dat waz? ¡±

Who that was is the man of all hours

Sending all star players straight back to the showers

Fake hard rocks are really just cowards

I master dub plates like my name's herb powers

I getcha open like hunting season

I make papers don't front on the reason

Cause i'm seizing up every day

You say carpe diem i call em like i see em

Chorus 3

Send "Fed Up" ringtone to your cell