Fed Up (remix W, Guru) Lyrics - House Of Pain

I say brothers are amused by other brothers reps 

But they're all playing roles just like Omar Epps 

I see so many players I wonder where the coach is 

My name's Everlast I'm hard to kill like roaches 

The dough that you're making has got you fronting and faking 

Your heart's been shook your brain's cooked like bacon 

Can't believe you're not butter you thought you was on it 

Out trying to flaunt it but it's just Blue Bonnet 

And now it's my turn kid watch me churn 

There's only so many spots they're had to earn 

Pack it up pack it in 

So let me begin 

Don't make me have to smack your dumb ass into a head spin 

You're left in suspense from the aura of my presence 

Trying to get props under false pretense 

You wanna say something but you're not sure 

If I'm a dis ya cause you're not pure 

Like the cheap version that gets cut with baking soda 

If you had game you still couldn't get over 

I know your crew's gotta be crazy weak 

Cause I can judge them by the company they keep 

Way deep is how I get into this rap thing 

While you're napping I got your chick's titties flapping 

She's asking for me to hit her off lovely 

I'm a slay all you punks like as if I was ... 

When you sell out to appeal to the masses 

You have to go back and enroll in some classes 

All you curve pieces start shaking your asses 

All you blunt holders take two pulls and pass it 

Back in '89 I dropped too much acid 

Rock from Lake Habasoo out to Lake Placid 

While you busy ragging on the people you blasted 

I'm asking how many days have you fasted 

Chorus 

Get up I'll break ya down a little something 

I'm fed up it's time to go head hunting 

Dead up too many crews be fronting 

I'm fed up it's time to go head hunting 

Get up I'll break ya down a little something 

I'm fed up it's time to go head hunting 

Dead up too many crews be fronting 

I'm fed up it's time to go head hunting 

Hey what's that sound don't turn around 

To your back I got the grey ground 

Hard for you chumps that act odd 

The ones faking jacks packing guns acting hard 

But let's suppose you really had a burner 

You would still need some lessons on how to hold it firmer 

Fuck a murder I'm a just kill your ego 

Cause we know that you ain't really got no people 

Murdering a prop my man this my homey that 

You need to get the fuck out my face cause you don't know me jack 

Eeny meeny miney moe 

I put seeds in your mental and I watch em grow 

Turn on the instrument and then clock my flow 

Put the dough in my pocket and I rock the show 

Cause I know and you this is how we go 

Somalaku to the Muslim 

Shalom to the Hebrew 

Geed lust envy sloth gluttony pride and wrath do the math 

These seven deadly sins represent my jinn 

You scheming on testing me kid where you been 

I been told all my life I'm my only friend 

There's a killer on the road money it's the end 

And you might think that I'm a dummy 

But while you're out at the spot I'm home chilling with your honey 

I kicks flavor 

Like Steven King I write the horror 

If you wanna see tomorrow when I lead you're best to follow 

Or you'll be left along the road in the dust 

And me and you won't have too much to discuss 

Trust me I be the gifted unlimited 

Too many of these rappers blowing up because of Guinness kid 

You ain't did the bid you ain't never pulled the trigger 

You battle me I make you stagger more than liquor 

I get raw I'm quickdraw the outlaw I dealt ya'll 

Ready to fuck with me so boy you better stop 

Cause I'm a beat your ass like your pops 

Get the real estate money and then the props 

Chorus 

Lyrics submitted by: mikE'97