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Текст песни House Of Pain - Feel It

House Of Pain - Feel It слова песни

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we got Bo, Duke and Daisy goin` togo see Boss Hogg. Then ya got Kooter fixin` over them cars...I don`t need a glock cause I`m not a hard rockGot bitches on my jock, like New Kids On The BlockI can`t lose like Parker Lewis, I`m undefeatedStep into my sector, homeboy, you`ll get greetedBy the 380 colt mustang in my pocketI had a few drinks already, don`t make me cock itCause if I have to cock it, well then it`s gettin` shotAnd if it`s gettin` shot, well, yo, you`re gettin` bucked downI don`t fuck around, I ain`t got time for punksBut I got time to smoke all the skunk philly bluntsStunts gather round, check out the soundAnd let`s get down to do the nasty, freaky, funkyStinky, junky, let`s bump uglies in the nighttimeBetween the sheetsCause I rock fly rhymes over funky beatsThe Celtic ruin, the legion of doomNow gimme the track, or with the fat back doomNow gimme some room, and I`ll explodeCock back my hammer, then squeeze off my loadSo hit the road, Jack, and don`t come back no moreOr I`ll be moppin` up the floor with your crew of soft corePunk pussy bitches, jail house snitchesOn stage, I get wrecked and I collect my richesI get the funky style, and like Gomer PileYou`ll be `Surprise surprise surprise!` as IRise to the top, fuck a punk copI`m always hip-hop, only a pimple goes popSo you better quit, zitI came to rip shitBlastin` with the Soul AssassinsAskin` the question, teachin` the lessonBringin` the West Coast back to the East CoastWhere it all started, what`re you, retardedYou`re startin` to trip from that Jheri curl dripSoakin` in your brain, the House Of PainIs causin` pain, and feelin` painSo feel itChorusJust feel itFeel itJust feel itC`mon y`all, feel itBack to the rhyme, I`m always on timeA lime to a lemon, yo, a lemon to a limeI rock the old school style and it`s futileTo step up, cause you`ll get swept upLike dust, or I just might bust and unload my clipUnless you`re a punk, then I`ll just pop you in the lipAnd show you the deal, now how did that feelYou know I`m killin` any pig that squeelsI`m fillin` up reels of tape with my fly rhymesAnd I`ve got a subsciption to High TimesSon Dooby`s in the back, the Mexican Ralph Emms is on the trackMy DJ Lethal, he`s on the cutWhen I bust a dope rhyme, it`s like bustin` a nutSo let me jerk off on the mic and get it stickyWhen I drink a brew it`s either Guiness or mickeysI`ll put your head out just like a fuckin` MalboroDon`t fuck with me, punk, you know that I`m thoroughBred like a race horse, right-in-your-face forceFeedin` you beats, straight off the streetsSo catch me catch me, if you canYou know I`m the man like Chewbacca knows HanSolo, bolos are what I`ll be throwin`When I be flowin`, I get the job doneCause I`m number one, the Prodigal SonI left and I came back, but not with the same rapAnd not with the same style, I`m known to get buckwildThe luck of the Irish spreads like a virusSo feel itChorus

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