Lirik Lagu Feel It - House Of Pain
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MeanwhileBack at the ranchWe got Bo, Duke and DaisyGoin' to go see Boss HoggsThen ya got Kooter fixin' over them cars
I don't need a glock'Cause I'm not a hard rockGot bitches on my jockLike New Kids On The BlockI can't lose like Parker LewisI'm undefeatedStep into my sector, homeboyYou'll get greetedBy the .380 colt mustang in my pocketI had a few drinks alreadyDon't make me cock it'Cause if I have to cock itWell then it's gettin' shotAnd if it's gettin' shot, well, yo, you're gettin' bucked downI don't **** aroundI ain't got time for punksBut I got time to smoke all the skunk Philly bluntsStunts gather roundCheck out the soundAnd let's get down to do the nasty, freaky, funkyStinky, junky, let's bump uglies in the nighttimeBetween the sheets'Cause I rock fly rhymes over funky beatsThe Celtic ruinThe Legion of Doom (Doom)Now gimme the trackOr with the fat back doomNow gimme some roomAnd 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 p**** bitchesJail house snitchesOn stage I get wrecked and I collect my richesI get the funky styleAnd like Gomer PileYou'll be 'Surprise surprise surprise' as IRise to the top**** a punk copI'm always hip-hopOnly 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 startedWhat are you, retardedYou're startin' to trip from that Jerry curl dripSoakin' in your brain, the House of PainIs causin' pain, and feelin' painSo feel it
[CHORUS]Just feel itFeel itJust feel itC'mon, y'all, feel it
Back to the rhymeI'm always on timeA lime to a lemonYo, a lemon to a limeI rock the old school style and it's futileTo step up, 'cause you'll get swept upLike dustOr I just might bustAnd unload my clipUnless you're a punkThen I'll just pop you in the lipAnd show you the dealNow 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 backThe Mexican Ralph Emms is on the track (on the track)My DJ Lethal, he's on the cutWhen I bust a dope rhyme, it's like bustin' a ***So let me ******* on the mic and get it stickyWhen I drink a brew it's either Guinness or MickeysI'll put your head outJust like a ****** MalboroDon't **** with me, punk, you know that I'm thoroughBred like a race horseRight-in-your-face forceFeedin' you beatsStraight 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 done'Cause I'm number oneThe Prodigal SonI left and I came backBut not with the same rapAnd not with the same styleI'm known to get buckwildThe luck of the IrishSpreads like a virusSo feel it
[CHORUS]
I don't need a glock'Cause I'm not a hard rockGot bitches on my jockLike New Kids On The BlockI can't lose like Parker LewisI'm undefeatedStep into my sector, homeboyYou'll get greetedBy the .380 colt mustang in my pocketI had a few drinks alreadyDon't make me cock it'Cause if I have to cock itWell then it's gettin' shotAnd if it's gettin' shot, well, yo, you're gettin' bucked downI don't **** aroundI ain't got time for punksBut I got time to smoke all the skunk Philly bluntsStunts gather roundCheck out the soundAnd let's get down to do the nasty, freaky, funkyStinky, junky, let's bump uglies in the nighttimeBetween the sheets'Cause I rock fly rhymes over funky beatsThe Celtic ruinThe Legion of Doom (Doom)Now gimme the trackOr with the fat back doomNow gimme some roomAnd 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 p**** bitchesJail house snitchesOn stage I get wrecked and I collect my richesI get the funky styleAnd like Gomer PileYou'll be 'Surprise surprise surprise' as IRise to the top**** a punk copI'm always hip-hopOnly 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 startedWhat are you, retardedYou're startin' to trip from that Jerry curl dripSoakin' in your brain, the House of PainIs causin' pain, and feelin' painSo feel it
[CHORUS]Just feel itFeel itJust feel itC'mon, y'all, feel it
Back to the rhymeI'm always on timeA lime to a lemonYo, a lemon to a limeI rock the old school style and it's futileTo step up, 'cause you'll get swept upLike dustOr I just might bustAnd unload my clipUnless you're a punkThen I'll just pop you in the lipAnd show you the dealNow 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 backThe Mexican Ralph Emms is on the track (on the track)My DJ Lethal, he's on the cutWhen I bust a dope rhyme, it's like bustin' a ***So let me ******* on the mic and get it stickyWhen I drink a brew it's either Guinness or MickeysI'll put your head outJust like a ****** MalboroDon't **** with me, punk, you know that I'm thoroughBred like a race horseRight-in-your-face forceFeedin' you beatsStraight 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 done'Cause I'm number oneThe Prodigal SonI left and I came backBut not with the same rapAnd not with the same styleI'm known to get buckwildThe luck of the IrishSpreads like a virusSo feel it
[CHORUS]
