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Correct The Sitcom Really Really Isn't All That Real Lyrics
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Artists: W
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Weerd Science
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Correct The Sitcom Really Really Isn't All That Real
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Lyrics:
Hey Mom, hey Dad, I'm home Look, Hunny, it's our little mistake! Come give mommie a hug, but be careful, I'm on the rag! Mmm, cherry slushies for everyone! Haha, how was your day?* For starters it sucked ass 'cause my boss is a dickhead God handed out sticks and gave me the shit-end Ridden with hoes, no kiddin' like one's spittin' Got two right on my neck, three blister and on my dick-end Clock tickin', sickin' and stickin' these rhymes inside of a beat When really nobody's listen White trash, Johnny No-Cash Tried to sell weed but thugs slapped me and took my stash *Son, what's with the shitface? Golly fuck, Dad, heroin prices are through the roof And my allowance just won't cut it anymore. I'm jonesin' for a hit! Try whorin' your body, like Mom does!* The local outcast with a rash on my inner thigh Tryin' to outrun these bitches who all want me to die Waitin' for some rappers to die so maybe I can get a chance Without a song about makin' bitches dance I hope all the clubs close 'Cause so many assholes trapped in one building Should burn like great white shows And all our hope is to pose a threat Try to change what rap music hopes and I forget The sitcom ain't real, what it's about Money's for gangstas not high school dropouts My life never resembled an episode of Full House You stay stuck in this town you'll scream 'til your lungs come out The sitcom ain't real, what it's about Money's for gangstas not high school dropouts I get so frustrated the vein in my forehead pops out I'm more dead than dead people buried and forgotten about *Dad? I need to borrow $300 $300? What for, son? Well, I got Jenny knocked up again! Son, did I ever tell you about your mother and the wire-hanger?* Clout? Nope, none of that America hates me like Yasur Arafat You fuckers remember that I feel obligated to tell you that in the past Oh yes, I playa-hated Now shit is different, now I'm playa-jaded Most of these so called mcs is overrated and outdated New dawn, and it's a red one The only good rapper to me is a dead one *Golly, Dad, is it ever O. K. To hit a woman? Son, in my day, it wasn't right to hit a woman. But now that equal rights have been established, you wallop that c***! And kick her while she's down!* Nah, I'm just fuckin' around, I know I sound bitter I grew up in a town where white kids say "What up, nigga?" When they all wanna be, it's ironic to me that that's what I get called Just 'cause I wanna jump up on a beat So fuck all you assholes, past present and future Hope a young thug fires at me, misses and shoots ya I wouldn't lie, man, I tell the truth to ya There's no tellin' what this fuckin' town'll do to ya The sitcom ain't real, what it's about Money's for gangstas not high school dropouts My life never resembled an episode of Full House You stay stuck in this town you'll scream 'til your lungs come out The sitcom ain't real, what it's about Money's for gangstas not high school dropouts I get so frustrated the vein in my forehead pops out I'm more dead than dead people buried and forgotten about Most of you assholes all think you gangstas 99% of you's are fuckin' fake, ain't ya's? That's why I hate ya's Verbal Heaven's gate knock a fuckin' hole in my head, insert a metal plate I feel empty, kinda plastic When this shit drops I'ma get my fuckin' ass kicked But that's O. K. With me, I'd die for the cause 'Cause my only purpose in life is to fuck with ya'lls I hate your fuckin' guts 'cause my record got bumped back You went double-platinum, I went double-hubcap A rugrat, you'd be pissed too suckin' a freshly dubbed track What the fuck would you do? *Gee whillikers Dad, does it ever get any easier? Son, if there's one thing I've learned it's this: We're all gonna live and die in this shitty, shitty town* (He's right) And the funny thing is, he is right. I bid you farewell From shit Town, America, folks. Get home safe, Ladies and gentlemen. Hold your girlfriends tight, And pretend not to notice their mouths taste like your best friends dick. 'Cause in the end you're just a small town piece of shit. Smile! Until next time folks, it's Weerd Science. Fuck off.
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