Uh huh, come on Sparkin’ up an L might kill a brain cell But I might as well I’m on a highway to hell Totally consumed by an earie feelin’ I hear pigs squealin’, soldiers of fortune Are torchin’ huts, the girls on them TV’s Are shakin’ their butts, I’m hyperventilatin’ I might be hallucinatin’, yo I got a chill I’m feelin’ sort of ill, I’m goin’ mad But arn’t ya glad I used Dial, I’m goin’ out like style
CHORUS Uh and ya don’t quit Yeah, keep it comin’ and ya don’t stop They say, uh and ya don’t quit
I got complexes ya can’t figure out My dad said, “He’s a bum, kick the nigger out” My head’s fucked up but I lucked out and got a hit record Now I’m well respected, I can go places I never went before I still dress the same so it must be my name I can’t deal with who’s real and who’s not Who treated me the same when my record wasn’t hot They said I couldn’t eat too so I put my cake down I think I’m having a breakdown
CHORUS
It’s not paranoia, I got something for ya It’s made of chrome and it’ll burst your dome No joke my gun’ll blow a fuckin’ tunnel Right through your body, free John Gotty I’ll leave with your hotty and I’ll take her home Lay her down on her back and I’ll make her moan
CHORUS
Uh and ya don’t quit Yeah, keep me cummin’ and ya don’t stop Soul Assassins and ya don’t stop Funkdoobie and ya don’t stop Cypress Hill and ya don’t stop House of Pain and ya don’t stop Soul Assassins and ya don’t stopTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.