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Spam lyrics,Church Of Realities album,Hed P.E.
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Spam


Spam
Spam lyrics,Church Of Realities album,Hed P.E.
Background Information
Artist
Release Date
July 01, 1995
Running Time
N/A
Track #
N/A of 8
Writers
N/A
Spam Review Score's
Spam lyrics,Church Of Realities album,Hed P.E.

Spam is a song written by N/A for the singer Hed P.E. of the album Church Of Realities. This song is the 7 of the total 8 tracks in the album.


Spam Reviews Score



Spam lyrics,Church Of Realities album,Hed P.E.
Spam lyrics,Church Of Realities album,Hed P.E.
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Spam lyrics,Church Of Realities album,Hed P.E.
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Spam Lyrics


G.I. Joe boy, monkey suit man Shamu, 5.0, flatfoot motherfucka make less money
than the damn schoolteacher Make less money than a damn school teacher
Ignorant redneck
Squeal, squeal, squeal
I'm gettin' tired of dealing with the p.i.g.c.o.w.a.r.d
Cro-Magnum, meter maid fed, cinder block (hed)
How to serve and protect everything that you hate-wait
Your pencil neck's about to break
Coward, coward
What's with that chip on your shoulder?
What's with that chip on your shoulder?
Vacuum
Vak-yoom brain ded
Oink-oink, cornfed
No action seein'
Glorified security guard
Causin' more trouble than you find on your silly beat
Useless & integrated
The hate and race war you perpetuate will soon end
Then, you'll be unemployed
Checkin' my ID for a livin'
Insecure, power struck excuse for a pig
Smell the bacon fryin'
See it dyin' in my nice dreams
Slice these officers
Bleedin' from the cap that me just twisted back-snap!
Slut
Coward, coward
What's with that chip on your shoulder?
What's with that chip on your shoulder??!
What's with that chip on ya shoulder??
WHAT's With that chip on ya shoulder???
Don't stop!
check it out chumb, ya got tha hednigga up in this muthafucka
yo got tha O.M.C in tha house, ya got tha H.E.D in da house,Orange County nigga
checkin' for a motherfuckin' place to be ten point two three,
dancers fate with the fencers down with the prankers
fucking by the court rolling MC's calling but the faggot turned the phone off,
blows it, flows it, barely knows it, all fuckd up with the wimp that shows it
all boesin' up like airborne, 'ot like gypsy, burn like napalm, yeah, silly
nigga no yo can't rip dis up all by the law and rip the spirit lip K.K.K loud
like a beetlebug in ya back here they come, here they come, here they come,
here they come, and when we come we come we come hard, and when we come we come
correct, and when we come we come hard, and when we come whe must come
correct.....


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