Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song story, artist - clipping..
Date of issue: 10.02.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
story |
Godsmack in a straight-jacket |
A mac and a knife |
A broad’s back and it’s broad back at the taxi a trife |
Motherfucker the life lights motherfucker the lights |
Fuck it, it’s bright as a motherfucker |
He right as a motherfucker |
The rain can’t stay in those plastic canisters |
And the brain pan is pandering |
Dang, man, he keeping it tucked (what?) |
The nine in the space between his spine and the belt |
Buckle, the safety is on, fine, his rocker is offline |
He rocking that cap fitted, she sit in his lap kissin' |
The driver, he laughs, nobody see him, he gas dippin' |
The road slick, ass slippin' and then |
He hope they’re paying in cash |
Sick of these hipster-ass kissers kissing everyone’s ass but his |
History major, ain’t doing shit with it, but what would he do? |
Teach at the fucking new school of the arts? |
For a bunch of hooligan upstarts |
Full of themselves, not smart enough to grapple with anything real |
That’s when the Jaguar emblem |
Crashed through the driver-side window |
And the driver of the Jaguar’s head left his body |
Still sitting in the rental |
The couple all bloody |
Tongues punctured by each others teeth |
Died and didn’t let go |
The taximan’s been bisected by the hood of a car |
He’d never buy, probably would never drive |
Randy was the first on the scene |
Seeing this, couldn’t breathe for a hot sec |
Just transferred up from the desk |
'cause he thought he was ready, but he not yet |
Hashbrown and eggs on his shirt |
And the pant leg, soon as he caught a whiff |
Hadn’t thrown up more than once since he was a little kid |
And his brother made him drink a half bottle of |
Pine-Sol, spinal everywhere |
He wrote the report as soon as he left the scene |
Mind all everywhere, he gotta get more booze soon |
Or he gonna scream |
Time all funny when his stomach goes skydive |
What year was it last? |
Hadn’t had a drink in about five |
But mama said every day was just made for sipping away |
He may be slipping |
But hey, nobody said they was perfect |
Randy got somebody by the collar, pistol to the face |
Swore he just said something 'bout his mama, say it to my face |
Not so funny when I got a chopper all up in your mouth |
Where the fucking jokes? |
You a comedian, man, spit it out |
Spit it out, spit it out, why you ain’t gon' spit it out? |
Break a couple teeth and give him something he can spit about |
Blood dripping all on his wrist, boy Randy got it cold, right |
That Police Academy shit, he don’t run from no fights |
He don’t run from nothin' |
Nothing left for discussin' |
Scumsuckers all over drinkin', smokin', yellin' and cussin' |
Last week got a call 'bout some drug dealer stabbing his cousin |
These cats is animals, they should be in a zoo or somethin' |
And he protect and serve, these bitches got some nerve |
Trying not to serve him when he keep killers off of they curbs |
Killers off of they streets, these killers off of they minds |
So they can go to sleep at night and think that everything’s fine |
He had a glass of wine to calm him down, that was a’ight |
Was talking to this sexy girl, half black and half white |
He asked her what she wanted, ordered up another pint |
When they told him he was cut off and all Randy saw was lights |
And Randy starts to cry, he can’t figure out why |
He told his sister walk, unless she stop kissing that guy |
She said «You ain’t my dad!» |
He said «Bitch, catch a cab.» |
And that’s the last discussion she and Randy ever had |