1.All That
2.Back From The Dead
Straight out the casket, rising up
Open up your eyes, can't you see me
What the fuck is this madness
Pick up my bones
Erase my name from off the tombstones
Alive and kicking
Breathin' the air
Call out my name punk
And i'll be there
No question
My suggestion to the action
Caught smack dab in the middle of the blastin'
Messin with me
You're messin' with the best
Bleow, you're takin' to shots to the chest
'cause i'm back from the dead
You know i'm back from the dead
And i'll put a friggin' hole in your head
Back from the dead
Back from the dead
You can't disrespect it
I'm the resurrected
Back from the dead
Just to mess with your head
I'll stress what i said
But i won't repeat it
If you've got a cold, starve it
If you've got a fever, feed it
And if you can't feed it
Then why not blow
You might be positive
And not even know
I rock the hardcore
From the floor to the ceilin'
I give sexual healin'
I'll get your girlie squealin'
Like a pig
My grave's somethin' you can never dig
I'll rock a mausoleum
Backyard a colosseum
'cause i'm back from the dead
You know i'm back from the dead
House of pain's in effect, 'nuff said
Skip the autopsy
'cause i never o.d.'d
I only puff boom kid
I never get skeed
I don't sniff or shoot up
Rip i'll stick my boot up
Your ass quick fast
Everlast don't jive
Just like pearl jam
Spreadin' like tumors
Gossip and lies
Exaggerated reports of my demise
And if you believed 'em
Well then you got gassed
The media deceived em'
Just like in the past
'cause i'm back from the dead
You know i'm back from the dead
And i'll put a friggin' hole in your head
Back from the dead
Back from the dead
Like steven segal
I'm hard to kill
And like g.g. allen
I'm crazy ill
I'll beat ya down with my mic
Kick your ass with my nike
Bust ya in the eye
If ya tell another lie
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Thinkin' i'm dead
You must be smokin' dust
Come see me bust in the flesh
It's a must
'cause i'm back from the dead
You know i'm back from the dead
House of pain's in effect, 'nuff said
Back from the dead(fade)
3.I'm A Swing It
chorus 1
On and just on, and (x10)
I'm a swing it
Wach me bring to the next level
To grab denevel's
Getting funky like the devil
Brothers from the bijou
So why you wanna trip
Just play the side lines
Kid, and wait for me to slip
Cause i can feel it in the ait tonight
But yo i'm not phil collins
Or, unlike henry rollins
Cause i'm search and destroy
You wanna toy wit the plot
Tryin to get what i got
You might get- shot
Hot damn manna's son
Ya got ebonics
They teach ya how to write
I'm writing like i'm hooked on phonics
Mother goose aint got shit on me
Cause i'll get loose at the jam
And wreck the whole party
I make 'em jump and mosh
Oh my gosh
Just slammin in the pit
While i'm kickin my shit
They buggin in the isles
Cause i got madd styles
And aint a damn thing funny
I get money in piles
Some poeple thought i'd die
Thats just a rumour, though
Others thought i'd follow up
But now i'm numero-
Uno, dos, not quatro
Word to kool keith
I'm a break up ya teeth
When i die, bury me (me)
Hang my balls on the cherry tree (tree)
Let them git ripe
Then take a bite
And if they don't taste right
Then dont blame d
You need to quit swingin,
The styles that i'm bringin
The funk knuckled dragon
Who gits on the wagon
I'm not the 12 stepper
Dont play me like a leper
My mike sounds nice
But it's not salt and pepper
Well it's the man
With the plan
To get all your skins
The tip on my dick
Is where the line begins
Wit all those former lines
Take off that swine
I'll git your ass butt-naked
Lets see if you can take it
Cause i'll make you feel
Like a natural woman
Cause i keep it comin
I'm the everlastin'
Free style assasin
With soul in my goal
Is to bring a little passion
To your girl's life
Like the daily soaps
Throw down on the bed
And tie her up with ropes
Chorus 2
The lyrics keep on and just on and
The lyrics keep on and just on and
The lyrics keep on and just on and
On and just on and on and just on and (x2)
Chorus 1
I'm just another ranger with the derry face
Punk motherfucker in the prime of my race
You need step back, kid
And give me some space
And rock the cold shot
At the party
When i'm rockin the place
Danny boy's arrivin
With the standar 65
In the heft dont laugh kid
The graft is survivin
The out law bike
With my bitch thats on the
Highway to hell
Cause i never tell
Well it's the funk back breaker
Weeded up like jamaica
Dont bring your woman to the party
Cause i'll taker
Hit the deck
Cause i'm down wit the hoolies
I got a trunk
Full of funk
Like the groovey doolies
I'm not the man
Brotha asked who was he
Quik's got the hair do
Just like ruth buzzy
Runnin' round
Like you been to jail, son
But ya hit the swatly
To get your hair and your nails done
Get off my sack
Cause your shit is wack
Ya diss me
And i'm a diss you back
Chorus 1 (x2)
4.Interlude
5.It Aint A Crime
Johnny was a bad boy
He was a juvenile delinquent
He had his picture
On the wall of every precinct
He had a rep for hangin' out with his homies
Puffin' on the blunts
And sippin' on the 40's
But when he spoke
Nobody would listen
And when he was home
His parents, they would diss him they called him a bum
A worthless piece of shit
So over this he had a fit
And now he grabs his bag
And heads for the door
And walks to the neighborhood
Liquor store
Pulls out a gat
And tells the old man, 'hit the floor'
Then breaks open his register drawer
Pulls out the money
Stuffs it in his pocket
Points his pistol
Then he starts to cock it
The man panicks and the gun goes off
Stupid old fool
Made johnny blow his head off
But he don't care
'cause he was taught
It ain't a crime
If ya don't get caught
Chorus(3x)
It ain't a crime if you don't get caught
That's how it is homie like it or not
Now, comin' out of the store
Johnny shot two acpedic jews
When he got home
His face was on the news
His mom freaked out
Told him, 'get the fuck out'
That's when the pigs rolled up
So, yo he ducked out
He hit the back door
Like his name was carl lewis
Dipped to the pay phone
To find out where his crew is
'can i come over, my man？'
He said, 'no way!'
The cop- was here
He was lookin' all over for ya
But i told the pig
I didn't know ya
He said, 'cool,
Pick me up at the school
I need a ride 'cause
I'm wanted for homicide'
Johnny's got his gun
And he's on the run
But he don't care
To him, the shit's fun
Now that he's an outlaw
Sorta like robin hood
The hard-rock hero
Of the whole neighborhood
If they catch him
He'll wind up in court, but
Chorus
It ain't a sale if it don't get bought
It ain't a show if i don't get paid
She ain't a ho if ya don't get laid
6.Keep It Comin'
Smokin' up an l
Might kill a brain cell
But i might as well
I'm on a highway to hell
Sometimes i feel doomed,
Totally consumed
By an eerie feelin'
I hear pigs squealin'
Soldiers of fortune
Are torchin' huts
The girls on them tvs
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 aren't ya glad
Ya 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 up
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 you dome
No joke my gun'll
Blow a fuckin' tunnel
Right through your body
Free john gotti
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 assasins 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 assasins and ya don't stop
7.On Point
I'm sick, demented
I came unrepresented
I rose from the grave
I had a close shave
The cops tried to lock me down
'cause the glock they found
Was stolen
That's how i'm rollin'
Calvin klein's
No friend of mine
So i don't like marky
Or the monarchy
Don't start me up like a rollin' stone
I leave you sulkin'
Like macaulay culkin
In home alone
So get a grip
Like stephen tyler
I used to trip
With the divine styler
Back in the days
There were irish ways
And irish laws
To stand up for the cause
Chorus(4x)
When it's time to rock a funky joint
I'm on point
When it's time to rock a funky jam
I'm the man
Well it's the d to the a, double n y bo
Y 'cause i rock shit like ronnie dio
It's a black day of rest
Quick run get your vest
I'm down with the hill
'cause i still got the skill
To turn the party out
It's all about the skyscraper
Your girl caught the vapors
So i might videotape her
I make a lot of the paper
So i don't have to scrape the
Bottom of the barrel
I rock fly apparel
Now i could pull you car
Starting up the harley davidson
I got the gun
So the drama you could save it
Well it's the mad bum rushin'
Funky with percussion
From l.a. to flushing
I get your girlie blushin'
I'll cutcha' like the butcher
But it and joe the writer
The old rock a loop
'cause i'm super like schneider
Chorus(4x)
I'm ill, retarded
So don't ya get me started
I might lose my cool
Ya lose if we duel
'cause i can stomp a hole
In the sole of a monk
With the rhymes in my head
And the beats in my trunk
I got the skill kid
And i'm gonna' milk it
For all it's worth
I'm gettin' mines on earth
So step to the next head
Or like sadat x said
He's gone
And that's it's supposed to be
Don't stand so close to me
Chorus(4x)
8.On Point(Lethal Dose Remix)
9.Over There Shit
Ladies and gentlemen (2x)
Here's the new shit i'm on
We can all get along
But if ya step to me wrong
I'm gonna bang ya like a gong
And i don't need a gang to do it
I creep solo
Beat ya till ya dead
Put out ya freakin head
That's how i do
Because i'm sick like dat
And you'll get kicked like dat
If ya fakin' the funk
I got a trunk full of beats
And a head full of rhymes
I got stains on my sheets
From all the good times
That i spent with ya hookers
Some were good lookers
And some were just stunts
After too many blunts
Ya got ya arm around ya girl
But don't make me laugh kid
Gettin steam pressured
Your girl's schemin' on the grafted
Jail faced celt
Backed up
Catch a welt
From the buckle
Of my belt
Now tell me how that felt
Oooh i'm on some of the over there shit (3x)
I'm on some milky i don't care shit
I don't care...
It's the return of the livin dead
Put all concerned to bed
I'm alive and kickin'
Ask any girl i'm stickin
Back once again
I never shot the heroin
Or hit the glass pipe
Ass wipe
Stop the rumor
I'll kill ya like a tumor in your colon
I'll leave your shit all swollen
Get off my dick cause thick is how i'm rollin'
The soul assassainator'll
Get ya open like a crator
I'm down with psycho vader
Cause i'm flava' like a plate a'
Corn beef and cabbage
I'm a savage on the set
Don't do nuthin' you'll regret
Because you'll end up gettin' wet like water
I'm out for slaughter
Cops lock up your daughter
Chorus
I rock it page style cause freed damaged ya
If ya play me close punk i'm gonna' damage ya
We got the funkdoobie in the house
With the mickey mouse
I spot a hooker then i'm runnin up in ya blouse
I ain't a bitch so don't play me soft
I got a round in my chamber and the safety's off
Pullin' on the trigger
Ain't nuthin brave
But i'm a sick fucker
Like a red-neck trucker
And i just might buck ya down
You're starin' down my barrel
So ya jump around
Ya try to get away
But i'm too quick to pull
So don't try to gas me
Punk, my tank's full
I ain't got the time
I don't need the fuel
Punk we can duel
I'll take ya ass to school
Then break down the lesson
Here's the pop quiz
I get's top billin'
You can ask iz
Chorus
10.Runnin' Up On Ya
Runnin' up on ya
Runnin up on ya
The house of pain...runnin' up on ya(2x)
Give me some elbow room
Spark the boom
Then pass it
I'll drop ya like acid
Ya might get blasted
If ya step to the crew with the irish pride
Ya wish ya died
Cause i don't let shit slide
Sinn fein
Is the house of pain
Our day will come
Boom she-lach-lach
My shit's cocked
Ya better run
Get a gun
Get a bomb
It's on like vietnam
Then run and get ya momma
And ask why daddy's buggin'
Chuggin' black ＆ tan's
Smacking fans
I'm breakin' up the set
I'm gettin' bitches wet
Gettin' all the dough
I'm leavin with ya ho
And if the ho's ya wife
Yo, ya might lose your life
Cause i'm runnin' up on ya
I ain't gonna' warn ya when
I'm runnin' up on ya
I ain't gonna' warn ya
I'm runnin' up on ya
I ain't gonna warn ya when
I'm runnin' up on ya
I ain't gonna' warn ya
I'll rip out ya veins
With hooks and chains
Just like pinhead
I used to rock a skinhead
Now i got a fade
Case i'm paid
And the bomb is played
Everybody's done it
So ev can never run it
I started that shit two years ago
Your girl started lookin' good five beers ago
So i might step to her
But i just wanna' screw her
I don't want to take her
I just wanna' make her
Scream out my name
Cause the pain's in the house
Bust a nut in her gut
And leave a stain in her blouse
Then pull up my drawers
And she's all yours again
And if ya got a beef punk
Better bring a friend
Cause i'm runnin' up on ya
I ain't gonna' warn ya when
I'm runnin' up on ya
I ain't gonna' warn ya
I'm runnin' up on ya
I ain't gonna warn ya when
I'm runnin' up on ya
I ain't gonna' warn ya
I'm commin' 'round the corner
I ain't gonna' warn ya
I'm runnin' up on ya
Punk you're a goner
Put the gun away
Run away
Better chill
Better yet still
Let me get ill
I can drop a bomb
Full of semen in ya mom
And keep her screamin till dawn
Cause the e can rock on like a
One, two and ya don't stop
Ya might get dropped
Cause i don't
And i swear
I don't have a gun
I ain't gonna' when
Cause i'm runnin' up on ya
I ain't gonna' warn ya when
I'm runnin' up on ya
I ain't gonna' warn ya
I'm runnin' up on ya
I ain't gonna warn ya
Runnin' up on ya
11.Same As It Ever Was
Uh shoot 'em all baby
Just call it in one time for me real heavy
Back in black
Who's the mack
Sittin' on the back
Of a cadillac
It's the d motherfucker
Better pass me the mic
So i can rock on
And drop the styles i write
I like hip-hop
Ya don't stop
And all that
I rock the freak styles
And neat styles
That are crazy phat,
It's making me sick
Punk get off my dick
Chorus
'cause i'm the same motherfucker
That i ever was
Same motherfucker
But i can't pay attention
'cause i'm on that dust
My head's not swell
Kid i'm not gell
Don't feed me soup
Just give me the funky loop
I'll rock it to the best of my ability
Runnin' mad styles and showin' flexibility
'cause i'm the man that's on point
When i jam a funky joint
I want some other over there
Yo, i just don't care shit
Pass the mic
Then i'm gonna' tear shit
Up like a peice of paper
Your girl caught the vapor
When i ran the caper
I ain't rearranged
So don't look strange
I'm the same motherfucker
Ain't a damn thing changed
Chorus
'cause i'm hard like stone
Don't play me soft
And i rock rhymes frequently
I drop it off and
I'm off in space
I remember your face
But don't remember your name
'cause it's all the same
As it ever was
That's what it is money grip
Don't trip
Or i'm gonna' bust that lip
Chorus
Bustin', flippin', skippin',
Just like a stone on a river
Ya know i'm gonna' give her
Whole lotta' flavor
Criminal behavior
Used to be how i made it
But that shit's over rated
Now i rock rhymes over funky beats
I fuck fine hookers between satin sheets
They say money changes people
But i won't 'cause
I'm the same motherfucker that i ever was
Chorus
And ya don't quit
'cause i'm on that dust
My man j. disco is on that dust
Cypress hill is on that dust
Funkdoobiest is on that dust
12.Still Gotta Lotta Love
Still gotta lotta love(8x)
Much love to my man leone
Keep rockin' dem beats and gettin' parties on the floor
Much love for my man danny boy
Ever since you came in my life you helped bring me joy
Much love for my man grand mixer-mugs
For taking me off the street and mixin' with the thugs
And much love love for my man b-real
I'm glad you got bit to that steel
And much love for my man sen dog
The crews rolling thicker than some london fog
And much love for my man steve urkel
I trust him wit my life and with the loop from every show
And much love for my rudy named justin
'cause if anyone steps up i know you gonna bust 'em
And much love for my man scott ian
For bein' a really down to earth human bein'
And much love to my man guy-o
'cause every day of the week he's got another fine ho
And much love to my man bronk style
You came to my party and son, you made it worthwhile
And much love to my man son doobie
If i needed it again you'd sell the gun back to me
And much love to my man ralph emms and the tomahawk funkster
Funky like a dumpster
And much love to my men kaves, admoney and the edge
With family like sister sledge
And much love to my moms and my sister and my niece
And everyone out there fighting the beast
And much love to the pioneers
'cause i'm gettin' pain for rhymin' and drinkin' beers
And much love to the ultra magnetic
'cause everybody knows you never got enough credit
Still gotta lotta love
Gotta lotta love (x11)
Still gotta lotta love to give
13.Where I'm From
Thats where i'm from
Thats where i'm from
Back in the hub we used to drop madel
Contemplate in hell
The stories i could tell would
Freak your mind, and wreck your brain
The thoughts i would have
Would drive most insane
The band playin' rain
Gettin' down wit' jimmy
Hendrix, and page
Make up the rage
Back in the huddle
Mclou's back yard
Me and d was starvin'
And times were hard
Danny used to roll through
Schemin' on the hustle
Credit cards and slang
And m-mc bangin
Leathal used to come with his reel to reel
We didn't have no deal
But that wasn't the point, we'd
Rock a funky joint
Then we'd rock another
The only thing to eat
Was some bread, and peanut butter
Back to all the females that beded me
In case you ever wondered
They didn't forget me
These are the times that i always think of
And this is dedicated to the ones i love
Chorus
That's where i'm from
Where're you goin' if you don't look back
What's the use of havin ends
If you lose all your friends (x4)
Paintin on the wall
Ten years gone by
Playin on the stereo
With the volume kinda low
Scheme team's comin'
Bring me along
We gonna throw a hut party
Till' the break of dawn
With the soul poppin, thats soul poetry
Chameleon playin bringin wit that team
Bring a tab and a 40 and a bag of weed
That's all i need g
Caue i aint freaky
Trippin for days
Runnin the maze
Goin down to venice
Sippin on the guinness
These are the times that i always think of
And this is dedicated to the ones i love
Chorus
Now times have change
And i'm on tour
And i don't see my friend every day no more
And cause they dont see me
They think i've changed
But, i the same motherfucker no doubt
What's it all about
I thought we was people
I'm tryin to get mine
I thought you had my back
Man, i can't understand
They used to slap my hand
Ask me for a grand
And run wit your man
Behind my back and diss me
If you wanna fuck me
First ya gotta kiss me
Chorus (x3)
14.Who's The Man
I used to kick it with the thugs, pushin' drugs in the park
Makin' every mark that was out after dark
Stick 'em for their loot, cut em up then i'd dash
And when i had to shoot, i'd nutted up for the cash
Ran down the block with my 45 glock
Capped off a round, everybody hit the ground
The next thing i heard was a siren
Couldn't turn around, money grip kept firin'
Runnin' for the ride, i can't go inside
I'd rather that i died, i got too much pride
I guess it's just somethin' that you can't understand
My gun's in my hand, tell me who's the man？
Chorus (x4)
Who's the man with the master plan？
Who's the man？ who's the man？
I used to sell ya yo back in the day-o
Ran with the gang, had all the homie's slang
Grams to the quarters, i'm takin' all the orders
Makin' all the runs, rakin' in the funds
I always got my gun, it's the old six-shooter
King of the neighborhood, crazy white peckerwood
Now people thinkin' danny lost his mind
It must've been from all the wine man and all the hardtimes
Like chillin' in the park in the dark with the crew
I'm always gettin' high, i saw my man die
Now i got the work and the dough, 25 grand and a 5 keys of blow
I gotta' relocate and start all over
But watch it blow up like a supernova
I keep my game in tight and follow the plan
My gun's in my hand, tell me who's the man？
Chorus (x4)
I got myself locked down in the pen
I ain't got a friend, so here i go again
I gotta' get my props up and earn my respect
Gotta' shake someone up or throw 'em off the top deck
My time's runnin' out, i gotta' spill some blood
If i don't do it quick, shit, my name'll be mud
So i pick out a hardrock and rush him in his cell
Beat his ass down and then say that he fell
And if i gotta' do him, screw him, the convict's dead
I'll stab him in the chest, just another
Of the cell block know that i'm nobody's ho
My shanks in my hand so tell me who's the man？
Chorus (x4)
15.Word Is Bond
(uh)
Chorus
Word is bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole (x4)
I break it off
Like a kit-kat
Casue ya cant git that
Worth while style
Underground sound
So now your frontin
Tryin to fake it
Complain ya never make it
And pretty soon you're open butt naked
So your ass starts to rob and steel
Madd jealous cause my shit's got mass appeal
And now i'm rhymin wit diamond d
With some brand new shit for the year of '93
I got a loop on my crate
And i'm duckin
The way i'm rhymin on the break
Till the brothers, fuck it
Ya know i got the funky sound
Ya still up un the air
Cause last year i said jump around
I'm rollin thick
So i know you see me
I got mad little white kids,
Wishin' they could be me
So dont step up cause i'm a come out blastin'
You just a quickie
Punk, i'm everlastin
Chorus
Now let me hear my man( my man, my man, my man)
Yo it's diamond d
The psycotic, narrotic
Pizza idiotic
Smoke 'em
Boom thats exotic
With my man everlastin'
Brotha's be askin me
For the fee
Kid, my name aint sebastion
Give 'em my mom's demo tapes
Foam'n at the mouth
Dreamin of makin papes
I know your thirsty
Lord have mercy
I got ten acts
And ya want to be the first, g
Come on, dad
Let me breathe yeah
Dont be the lint ball on my sleeve
Wanna be down and diggin wit the crates
Have dough in the pocket
And sleep way past 8
I know the feelin
Ya wanna be the one weelin and dealin
But your shit aint appealin
So make haste
I'll stick it to a like paste
Dont sleep
I got the 9 on my waist
Chorus
I lick shots for the soul assasins
I lick shots fot the diamond d
I lick shots for the everlastin
And i lick shots for the d-i-t-c
Yo i'm more respected
My neck's protected
So dont get started
Just disregard it
Cause i'm retarted
With an agrial stubin
When i see a bootleg
I take my record and dupe it
Scoop it
Just like a news reporter
I'm causin disorder
Because i'm sorta'
Sick of loosin money
When i work so hard
So if i catch ya bootleggin
I'm a pull your card
Chorus
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