House of Pain — X-Files

Truly, truly... [Verse 1: Everlast] Well if Jesus is your Lord, then praise your God If Islam's your thing, Allahu Akbar And if you represent the six-pointed star Well then my Heebs back home told me to say, "Shalom!" I put grooves in the mix I make moves like the Knicks And take you straight up the lane I block out the frame And then I freeze it, believes it You needs it like heroin Before you get your fight on Kid, get your stare on Here come the Don Dada making Ghettos Red Hotta I drop the boom-bada like Jake LaMotta I can single you out and isolate you like Mono I'm undefeated like Rocky Marciano Hit you right below the belt Now you're singing soprano Talk what you talk, still you don't know what I know [Chorus] Some fiend for ass Some fiend for cash Some do the knowledge Some do the math Some stick to the road Some stray from the path Some do the knowledge Some do the math [Verse 2: Everlast] Now East Coast, West Coast Money, what's the beef? It's going down rough like swallowing teeth I say word to Thin Lizzy, kid I get busy And I'll knock all of y'all off this Wonderwall Cause on a daily basis, I rock like Oasis Bit the Beatles style, from a fetus to a child I kill fourteen million cells puffing L's Stomping devils on all nine levels of Hell Check the transmission, hear the transition Observe the technician in finite vision Your highlight reels are laced by drug deals As you scheme to check feels on chicks in high heels It's all bright and sunny when you're holding big money But my Sonic's got Youth, plus my Mud got honey I can be the King of Grunge if I blow my sponge away There's a little black spot on the sun today Which I don't care if my soul's up there So come on and feel the Sting from the true Pain King [Chorus] Some fiend for ass Some fiend for cash Some do the knowledge Some do the math Some stick to the road Some stray from the path Some do the knowledge Some do the math