The Sitcom Really Really Isn't All That Real Lyrics & Tabs by Weerd Science
The Sitcom Really Really Isn't All That Real
guitar chords 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
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Most of these so called MCs is overrated and outdated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 cunt!
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.
