paroles de chanson Fed Up - House of Pain
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
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
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