Lyrics Taco Day - Mr Len & Jean Grae feat. The Melon Bayside High Drama Club, Jean Grae, Mr Len

Taco Day - Mr Len & Jean Grae feat. The Melon Bayside High Drama Club, Jean Grae, Mr Len
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Taco Day, artist - Mr Len & Jean Grae feat. The Melon Bayside High Drama Club
Date of issue: 22.10.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English

Taco Day

This is Nancy Chin with a WPTF special news brief:
There’s been another brutal school shooting, this time at Melon Bayside High.
Mike did you catch that?
We have no number of the wounded or dead,
but we have a positive idea of the shooter.
Her name is Rebecca Gates Scott,
a 16-year-old junior.
She’s been positively identified.
There’s been no motive
released, as of yet, but Miss Scott is in police custody.
Please stay tuned
throughout the day as we uncover this unfortunate incident, and try to get to
the bottom of it, this recent violent epidemic
You can call me Becky, I’m 16, the Melon Bay junior prom queen
This year I made the dean’s list and go study with the captain of the team
Yes, I’m the most popular girl around, okay, the most popular girl in town
I’m not conceited, I swear, when I won at the dance, I didn’t even wear the
crown
I’m really sweet, after school in the week I tutor kids in science and math
And everyone in my class has gone back and taken a test and passed
I live with my little sister and grandfather, and mom and dad, of course
They’ve been together for 25 years, and never dreamed of a divorce
My mom’s a doctor, she’s hardly ever home, my dad’s an investment broker
My grandpa, he’s a war vet, heavy drinker, heavy smoker
Mommy tries to get him to quit, but he just laughs her off
Says if those damn Japs couldn’t kill him, he’s not worried about death and
coughs
My sister Rose is 10, she’s the thing that makes my daddy smile
Sweeter than cherry pie, blonde, with deep blueberry eyes
A little me, we’re really close, she has a room that’s full of toys
And hates 98 degrees and NSYNC, but loves the Backstreet Boys
And I would kill for her, I mean I would do whatever it took to keep her safe
Innocent and far from harm that’s threatening in any place
Even if it’s home
I hate leaving her alone, she cries at night
Sometimes I’m afraid I might that I might do something
Lose control and abuse something, cause Daddy’s hugs are too tight
And Rose grows throwing black and blue bruises on her wrists
Like where I slit mine, I mean the time I fell and cut my arms a bit
I’m rambling on, you don’t understand, nobody does
Sometimes when I’m alone I squeeze my nails in my hand hard enough to draw blood
Stop the talking, I’m not crazy, it’s probably just from when I had braces
And when I lay in bed at night, I’d pick up radio stations
And they used to tease me, call me names and stuff
But that’s just kids, I used to be mad about it
But that was then, now I’m grown, forget about it
Now I’m picture perfect, pretty, prissy, painted and deserve it
And pity those that hurt me, I lay the law, guilty verdict
This is Trevor Michaels filling in for Nancy Chin
I’m here with detective Lapowski
Detective, can you give us any information on Miss Scott
Any gang affiliation, member of militia or cult?
We can’t give any, information right now
All we can say is that she’s in custody and we’re attending to the injured
Has she said anything revealing why she did this?
Like I said, stated before, Trevor, we can’t give anything right now
Officer Mangles, you’re trudging jelly over the scene
Oh my God, Sasha, did you see what she was wearing?
I know!
Eww…
I hear them talking about me, they think I don’t, but I know what they’re saying
They think I can’t hear them when I’m walking past, they stop and smile and chat
But all the while they’re plotting behind my back, all my friends,
even the teachers
Even when I’m cheering, I can hear them whispering way up in the bleachers
They think I’m ugly, they’re still calling me names, they think that it’s funny
They think I’m nothing without money, think I’m anorexic and hungry
Even my best friend, I hate them all, they’re all plotting against me
Trying to convince me that nothing’s wrong, but the whole world’s against me,
I know it
The principal called me in the office to talk about the dean’s list
And then he backed me into the door
And made me touch his penis and called me a whore
And he said if I told, he’d do everything in his power
To keep me from graduating 'til I was old, been on two rolls so he’d deflower
And Daddy doesn’t come into my room at night, since Rose was about six
I guess I miss the times he used to visit me, you think that I’m sick?
Well I don’t care, and Mommy knew, she wanted to join in the fun
But ever since my little sister was born, they made her number one
And Grandpa makes me hold his thing, and put my mouth on it
So, ever since I can remember, I’ve never told anyone about it
But I’ve got a plan, and I don’t care who thinks it’s wrong
If you were me, what would you do?
Play it along 'til now?
Tell me, would you?
Hello, this is Fred Andrews, and you’re watching Middle America’s School Forum.
I’m here with Timmy Andrews, a sophomore, who attends Melon Bayside High.
Hello, Timmy
Hey, how you doin'?
How you doin'?
Very good, welcome to the show.
Timmy, could you tell us anything about Miss
Scott?
You know, we’re trying to get to the bottom of why she would do such a
thing.
What can you tell me about her?
Have you seen her in school?
I mean, actually, she seemed like a very popular girl, and I never would’ve
expected none of this to happen.
I mean it was just a shocking thing for me to
see and witness actually.
I mean I’m like… befounded
Earlier in the school year, did she ever mention that she was gonna come to
school and just, shoot people?
Did she ever say, «Hey, I hate it here,» «I hate you people»?
Did you ever get that kind of vibe from Miss Scott?
No, not at all.
She actually seemed very happy with what was going on in school.
I mean, she did a lot of tutoring and things like that nature and everything.
So, this was something you actually never would have expected.
I mean it’s
just very shocking to see such things happen at this moment
Yeah, we’re also here with Calvin Jackson.
Mr. Jackson, can you give us any
insight as to what’s going on?
Well, Fred, this is some bullshit.
Frankly, I think that America needs to stop
raising our children, and you should be allowed to beat your kids.
Then shit like this would not happen
This morning, I got up, walked to the bathroom, grabbed the scissors and stared
in the mirror
And started cutting 'til there was almost nothing left
Hair falling in chunks, and picked up a blunt razor and passed it once
Starting at the back of my neck, I moved it slowly forward to the front
A reverse bizarre Taxi Driver with blood dripping in my eyes
I looked and laughed loud, mommy heard it, walked by the door and passed out
I grabbed the bitch by her feet, closed the door and tied her to the bed
Stripped her, gagged her mouth and jumped to the top, pulled the razor back and
ripped her fucking throat open
Watched her choke and soaked in blood, I headed downstairs
To the kitchen, grabbed Rose by the hair and slit her with Daddy standing there
He tried to tackle me, so I jabbed him in the abdomen
Then I jumped, flipped, turned and stabbed him in the back again
And when he fell to the floor I stopped, heard a loud bang and a cough
I walked in the living room, and Grandpa stood, gripping a sawed-off
So I thought quick and dropped to my knees and started crying
And screaming «Why» and «I'm sorry» and «What have I done» and all sorts of
emotional lying
He dropped the gun and ran to me, shaking and screaming
I tried to free myself and go for the gun, but his grip just wouldn’t let me
«Grandpa, call the police, I think Rose is still breathing, please»
He let go, ran to the kitchen, I ran to get hold of the piece
I picked it up, cocked it back and blew off both of his knees
Left him laying in the hall bleeding to death and I snatched the car keys
Oh God.
Okay.
What have I done?
All right.
I didn’t do anything wrong.
They deserved it.
They got what was coming to them, and it’s not me,
I’m not crazy, I’m not hearing voices, no no no.
It’s--
It’s what was supposed to happen, now I’m just going to go to school and--
You know what?
No, never mind!
Cause everything I’m doing is right and they’re
supposed to die, and it’s them, they did it to me first.
And, it’s because,
I’m a good person.
I am cause I’m good enough and I’m smart enough and--
And people like me… no they don’t, yes they do, no they don’t, yes they--
Okay, all right.
I’m just going to get to school, and I’ll work everything out
Pulled up in the school parking lot, just me, destiny, and a shotgun riding
Perfect timing, assembly in the cafeteria for joy of creative writing
I walked up to the front doors, blew them open, started aiming and blasting
Stood frozen in the main hall, afterward smoke rising, sounds of screaming and
gasping
Rang everywhere, I ran into the west wing stairs, laughing
And through the gym, stopped to reload, pulled out Grandpa’s favorite flask and
Took a hit of gin, then raised the gun up and blasted once yelling, «Finally»,
it’s time to pay
I heard footsteps, poured the liquor out and turned around to blow the person
away
I kicked the corpse, walked, continued on my course, and heard the cries
Of helpless little victims, let me tell you, they all deserved to die
Walked to the middle of the room and hopped the tables and started letting off
wherever
Setting off the fire alarms and I turned my firearm around and held my finger
tight and pulled the trigger
Wetting the room, watching bodies drop to the floor and quiver
Held my finger tight and pulled the trigger
Bloodbath, there was red everywhere: on the wall, on my hands
On the doors, on the lunch trays, on the posters, on the ceiling fans
I raised the gun up and shot out at the glare of the fluorescent lights
Stopped and smiled wasn’t the fife, it was dark and mayhem, it all serves them
right
Continued shooting until the last shell dropped
Then I hopped off the table and stood in the middle of the room
Leaned back and admired the view
It was like a sunset in Hell
This is the police
On the count of three, we’re going to bust in
1, 2, 3, here we go!

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Artist lyrics: Jean Grae