Over There Shit Lyrics by House Of Pain

Over There Shit Lyrics

    Ladies and gentlemen (2x)

    Here's the new shit i'm on
    We can all get along
    But if ya step to me wrong
    I'm gonna bang ya like a gong
    And i don't need a gang to do it
    I creep solo
    Beat ya till ya dead
    Put out ya freakin head
    That's how i do
    Because i'm sick like dat
    And you'll get kicked like dat
    If ya fakin' the funk
    I got a trunk full of beats
    And a head full of rhymes
    I got stains on my sheets
    From all the good times
    That i spent with ya hookers
    Some were good lookers
    And some were just stunts
    After too many blunts
    Ya got ya arm around ya girl
    But don't make me laugh kid
    Gettin steam pressured
    Your girl's schemin' on the grafted
    Jail faced celt
    Backed up
    Catch a welt
    From the buckle
    Of my belt
    Now tell me how that felt

    Oooh i'm on some of the over there shit (3x)
    I'm on some milky i don't care shit
    I don't care...

    It's the return of the livin dead
    Put all concerned to bed
    I'm alive and kickin'
    Ask any girl i'm stickin
    Back once again
    I never shot the heroin
    Or hit the glass pipe
    Ass wipe
    Stop the rumor
    I'll kill ya like a tumor in your colon
    I'll leave your shit all swollen
    Get off my dick cause thick is how i'm rollin'
    The soul assassainator'll
    Get ya open like a crator
    I'm down with psycho vader
    Cause i'm flava' like a plate a'
    Corn beef and cabbage
    I'm a savage on the set
    Don't do nuthin' you'll regret
    Because you'll end up gettin' wet like water
    I'm out for slaughter
    Cops lock up your daughter

    Chorus

    I rock it page style cause freed damaged ya
    If ya play me close punk i'm gonna' damage ya
    We got the funkdoobie in the house
    With the mickey mouse
    I spot a hooker then i'm runnin up in ya blouse
    I ain't a bitch so don't play me soft
    I got a round in my chamber and the safety's off
    Pullin' on the trigger
    Ain't nuthin brave
    But i'm a sick fucker
    Like a red-neck trucker
    And i just might buck ya down
    You're starin' down my barrel
    So ya jump around
    Ya try to get away
    But i'm too quick to pull
    So don't try to gas me
    Punk, my tank's full
    I ain't got the time
    I don't need the fuel
    Punk we can duel
    I'll take ya ass to school
    Then break down the lesson
    Here's the pop quiz
    I get's top billin'
    You can ask iz

    Chorus

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