Never Had It Made 歌词
| 歌曲 | Never Had It Made |
| 歌手 | Insane Clown Posse |
| 专辑 | Carnival Of Carnage |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Bruce | |
| First I was born young and healthy | |
| I told my mother one day | |
| I'd be wealthy | |
| Can't forget my first day at school | |
| Got stabbed in the head with a pencil but it's cool | |
| Get my education, a job and a family, a good reputation | |
| And what about grade two? | |
| Got shot in the neck and the bullet went straight through | |
| But I'm packing a textbook | |
| Don't **** with me 'cuz | |
| I'm going to grade three | |
| Thank God it's lunch in a minute | |
| Bit into my hot dog with a razor blade in it | |
| And it cut my tongue off | |
| But I know how to multiply so what's up, boss | |
| Finally had to step out | |
| I dropped out of school when they ripped my neck out | |
| Who knows where the road led? | |
| Seen a man with a briefcase and no head | |
| So I'm like **** that | |
| Show me a quarter and an ounce of crack | |
| And I'm straighter than a ****ing light post | |
| I sold a lot of crack but | |
| I bought the most | |
| Now I'm a base head down on my luck | |
| Roaming the streets and got hit by a | |
| Mack Truck | |
| And thrown about a block | |
| But I'm thinking nothing but gimme a rock | |
| Holding my sign | |
| I'll work for crack | |
| With my old-ass | |
| E.T. shirt on my back | |
| And I'm sleeping in the gutter | |
| Right next to | |
| Jam Town's mother | |
| I'm eating dead rats in the street | |
| I keep on checking for my own heart beat | |
| Now I'm weighing at a buck-o-five | |
| Twitchy little neck and | |
| I'm barely alive | |
| Got my first taste of life in hell | |
| I ate a dead, shh, but don't tell | |
| Excuse me, sir, can you spare some change? | |
| I'll cut your face off and eat your brains | |
| You know all about me | |
| You act like you ain't seen penitentiary | |
| Spitting and cussing and you know | |
| I'll pissWith these iron braces on my ****ing wrists | |
| And I'm heading for the slammer | |
| Serial killer, all on the camera | |
| First day, they broke my back | |
| Next day, they broke my neck | |
| Third day, they broke my leg | |
| Fourth day, they broke my head | |
| Swallowing kept on trucking | |
| But there'll be no ****ing | |
| That's strictly for the soft | |
| Seen a freak in a week and my nuts fell off | |
| So I'm finna escape | |
| How much shit can one club no take? | |
| Stop, fool, stop or | |
| I'll fireShot me off and | |
| I fell in the razor wire | |
| I'm all tangled up, cut, cut, cut, slit, slit, cut, cut | |
| You don't love me, | |
| I really don't care | |
| Tie my ass up in the electric chair | |
| I got no family, | |
| I got no friends | |
| I pray to | |
| God that my life ends | |
| They thought that they had killed me | |
| They took me to the morgue | |
| I'm just a little stiff that's all, like a board | |
| I lay there in my coffin, just chill and wait and chill | |
| But then I jump out knife swinging all about | |
| And mother****ing mother, mother, mother, mother****ing kill | |
| I used to wonder what life's about | |
| Until it chewed me up and spit me out | |
| Your ghetto created a psycho nut | |
| Not just psycho, psycho nut | |
| Now I'm living in the walls of your house | |
| And I'll die there and lay and rot like a dead mouse | |
| I'm packing a sickle | |
| I'm on your roof and | |
| I'm playing the fiddle | |
| You want me in a straight jacket' | |
| Cuz when I see a throat, | |
| I'm a hack it | |
| Where I'm at? | |
| What's my name? | |
| Somehow, somewhere, | |
| I got hit by a train | |
| And it ripped my legs off, uh, nothing but a minor coft | |
| You can't get me | |
| I swing from a tree | |
| Shouting and cussing and shooting at me | |
| Everybody's end make two cents | |
| A branch broke and | |
| I fell on a picket fence | |
| I'm stuck and they're coming to get me | |
| Rip myself off and | |
| I took my lungs with me | |
| I'm stuffing them back in | |
| ****! They won't go back in | |
| Now my life's gettin' dense' | |
| Cuz my heart's still beating | |
| On a wooden fence | |
| They shoot me up and down | |
| Thinking, thinking, thinking clown | |
| Wicked, wicked, wicked clown | |
| You wanna know all about a wicked clown | |
| I never had it made |
| zuo ci : Bruce | |
| First I was born young and healthy | |
| I told my mother one day | |
| I' d be wealthy | |
| Can' t forget my first day at school | |
| Got stabbed in the head with a pencil but it' s cool | |
| Get my education, a job and a family, a good reputation | |
| And what about grade two? | |
| Got shot in the neck and the bullet went straight through | |
| But I' m packing a textbook | |
| Don' t with me ' cuz | |
| I' m going to grade three | |
| Thank God it' s lunch in a minute | |
| Bit into my hot dog with a razor blade in it | |
| And it cut my tongue off | |
| But I know how to multiply so what' s up, boss | |
| Finally had to step out | |
| I dropped out of school when they ripped my neck out | |
| Who knows where the road led? | |
| Seen a man with a briefcase and no head | |
| So I' m like that | |
| Show me a quarter and an ounce of crack | |
| And I' m straighter than a ing light post | |
| I sold a lot of crack but | |
| I bought the most | |
| Now I' m a base head down on my luck | |
| Roaming the streets and got hit by a | |
| Mack Truck | |
| And thrown about a block | |
| But I' m thinking nothing but gimme a rock | |
| Holding my sign | |
| I' ll work for crack | |
| With my oldass | |
| E. T. shirt on my back | |
| And I' m sleeping in the gutter | |
| Right next to | |
| Jam Town' s mother | |
| I' m eating dead rats in the street | |
| I keep on checking for my own heart beat | |
| Now I' m weighing at a buckofive | |
| Twitchy little neck and | |
| I' m barely alive | |
| Got my first taste of life in hell | |
| I ate a dead, shh, but don' t tell | |
| Excuse me, sir, can you spare some change? | |
| I' ll cut your face off and eat your brains | |
| You know all about me | |
| You act like you ain' t seen penitentiary | |
| Spitting and cussing and you know | |
| I' ll pissWith these iron braces on my ing wrists | |
| And I' m heading for the slammer | |
| Serial killer, all on the camera | |
| First day, they broke my back | |
| Next day, they broke my neck | |
| Third day, they broke my leg | |
| Fourth day, they broke my head | |
| Swallowing kept on trucking | |
| But there' ll be no ing | |
| That' s strictly for the soft | |
| Seen a freak in a week and my nuts fell off | |
| So I' m finna escape | |
| How much shit can one club no take? | |
| Stop, fool, stop or | |
| I' ll fireShot me off and | |
| I fell in the razor wire | |
| I' m all tangled up, cut, cut, cut, slit, slit, cut, cut | |
| You don' t love me, | |
| I really don' t care | |
| Tie my ass up in the electric chair | |
| I got no family, | |
| I got no friends | |
| I pray to | |
| God that my life ends | |
| They thought that they had killed me | |
| They took me to the morgue | |
| I' m just a little stiff that' s all, like a board | |
| I lay there in my coffin, just chill and wait and chill | |
| But then I jump out knife swinging all about | |
| And mother ing mother, mother, mother, mother ing kill | |
| I used to wonder what life' s about | |
| Until it chewed me up and spit me out | |
| Your ghetto created a psycho nut | |
| Not just psycho, psycho nut | |
| Now I' m living in the walls of your house | |
| And I' ll die there and lay and rot like a dead mouse | |
| I' m packing a sickle | |
| I' m on your roof and | |
| I' m playing the fiddle | |
| You want me in a straight jacket' | |
| Cuz when I see a throat, | |
| I' m a hack it | |
| Where I' m at? | |
| What' s my name? | |
| Somehow, somewhere, | |
| I got hit by a train | |
| And it ripped my legs off, uh, nothing but a minor coft | |
| You can' t get me | |
| I swing from a tree | |
| Shouting and cussing and shooting at me | |
| Everybody' s end make two cents | |
| A branch broke and | |
| I fell on a picket fence | |
| I' m stuck and they' re coming to get me | |
| Rip myself off and | |
| I took my lungs with me | |
| I' m stuffing them back in | |
| ! They won' t go back in | |
| Now my life' s gettin' dense' | |
| Cuz my heart' s still beating | |
| On a wooden fence | |
| They shoot me up and down | |
| Thinking, thinking, thinking clown | |
| Wicked, wicked, wicked clown | |
| You wanna know all about a wicked clown | |
| I never had it made |
| zuò cí : Bruce | |
| First I was born young and healthy | |
| I told my mother one day | |
| I' d be wealthy | |
| Can' t forget my first day at school | |
| Got stabbed in the head with a pencil but it' s cool | |
| Get my education, a job and a family, a good reputation | |
| And what about grade two? | |
| Got shot in the neck and the bullet went straight through | |
| But I' m packing a textbook | |
| Don' t with me ' cuz | |
| I' m going to grade three | |
| Thank God it' s lunch in a minute | |
| Bit into my hot dog with a razor blade in it | |
| And it cut my tongue off | |
| But I know how to multiply so what' s up, boss | |
| Finally had to step out | |
| I dropped out of school when they ripped my neck out | |
| Who knows where the road led? | |
| Seen a man with a briefcase and no head | |
| So I' m like that | |
| Show me a quarter and an ounce of crack | |
| And I' m straighter than a ing light post | |
| I sold a lot of crack but | |
| I bought the most | |
| Now I' m a base head down on my luck | |
| Roaming the streets and got hit by a | |
| Mack Truck | |
| And thrown about a block | |
| But I' m thinking nothing but gimme a rock | |
| Holding my sign | |
| I' ll work for crack | |
| With my oldass | |
| E. T. shirt on my back | |
| And I' m sleeping in the gutter | |
| Right next to | |
| Jam Town' s mother | |
| I' m eating dead rats in the street | |
| I keep on checking for my own heart beat | |
| Now I' m weighing at a buckofive | |
| Twitchy little neck and | |
| I' m barely alive | |
| Got my first taste of life in hell | |
| I ate a dead, shh, but don' t tell | |
| Excuse me, sir, can you spare some change? | |
| I' ll cut your face off and eat your brains | |
| You know all about me | |
| You act like you ain' t seen penitentiary | |
| Spitting and cussing and you know | |
| I' ll pissWith these iron braces on my ing wrists | |
| And I' m heading for the slammer | |
| Serial killer, all on the camera | |
| First day, they broke my back | |
| Next day, they broke my neck | |
| Third day, they broke my leg | |
| Fourth day, they broke my head | |
| Swallowing kept on trucking | |
| But there' ll be no ing | |
| That' s strictly for the soft | |
| Seen a freak in a week and my nuts fell off | |
| So I' m finna escape | |
| How much shit can one club no take? | |
| Stop, fool, stop or | |
| I' ll fireShot me off and | |
| I fell in the razor wire | |
| I' m all tangled up, cut, cut, cut, slit, slit, cut, cut | |
| You don' t love me, | |
| I really don' t care | |
| Tie my ass up in the electric chair | |
| I got no family, | |
| I got no friends | |
| I pray to | |
| God that my life ends | |
| They thought that they had killed me | |
| They took me to the morgue | |
| I' m just a little stiff that' s all, like a board | |
| I lay there in my coffin, just chill and wait and chill | |
| But then I jump out knife swinging all about | |
| And mother ing mother, mother, mother, mother ing kill | |
| I used to wonder what life' s about | |
| Until it chewed me up and spit me out | |
| Your ghetto created a psycho nut | |
| Not just psycho, psycho nut | |
| Now I' m living in the walls of your house | |
| And I' ll die there and lay and rot like a dead mouse | |
| I' m packing a sickle | |
| I' m on your roof and | |
| I' m playing the fiddle | |
| You want me in a straight jacket' | |
| Cuz when I see a throat, | |
| I' m a hack it | |
| Where I' m at? | |
| What' s my name? | |
| Somehow, somewhere, | |
| I got hit by a train | |
| And it ripped my legs off, uh, nothing but a minor coft | |
| You can' t get me | |
| I swing from a tree | |
| Shouting and cussing and shooting at me | |
| Everybody' s end make two cents | |
| A branch broke and | |
| I fell on a picket fence | |
| I' m stuck and they' re coming to get me | |
| Rip myself off and | |
| I took my lungs with me | |
| I' m stuffing them back in | |
| ! They won' t go back in | |
| Now my life' s gettin' dense' | |
| Cuz my heart' s still beating | |
| On a wooden fence | |
| They shoot me up and down | |
| Thinking, thinking, thinking clown | |
| Wicked, wicked, wicked clown | |
| You wanna know all about a wicked clown | |
| I never had it made |
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