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House Of Pain


Background information
Origin Los Angeles, California, United States
Genre(s) Hip-hop
Years active 1991—present
Label(s) Tommy Boy Records
Associated acts B-Real
DJ Muggs
Rage Against the Machine
Cypress Hill
Helmet
La Coka Nostra
Limp Bizkit
Pete Rock
Funkdoobiest
Butch Vig
Sadat X
Guru
Son Doobie
Lordz of Brooklyn
Members
Everlast
DJ Lethal
Danny Boy



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  H  →  House Of Pain  →  Albums  →  Legend

House Of Pain Album



1995
1.
2.
3.
. . .


I walk through the valley of death, 600 deep
Waking up dead from the sleep
Just like a diamond
Watch me shine
Bright like the sun
Make you wanna pull a gun
And buck 2 shots
For the peckerwood rockin'
Put down your glock
Or your block, I'll be knockin'
And dead off your shoulders
Head will roll
Peckerwood P
Funk assassin of soul
Is in control
So have no fear
I'm in this for real
Make it crystal clear
I get a little better each and every year
It's called improvement
Your style's a bowel movement
I'm taking you back to mount CulMcClarin
My whole family's stoned but there aint one sharin'
So whatcha looking at
Huh, why you starin'
Just take a picture
Before I have to hit ya
Ease back kid, gimme some space
Or Whoop there it is upside your face

[Chorus 1]

'Cause a hero aint nothin' but a sandwich
And a legend aint nothin' but a car
So shoot dope in your veins
And get some fame
And maybe one day you'll be a star
You know a hero aint nothin' but a sandwich
And a legend aint nothin' but a car
So go blow out your brains to get some fame
And maybe one day you'll be a star

I live in the house
And it's full of pain
But still out the frame
I'm going insane
I stay on point like a sniper
Chillin' in the viper room
Before it became a tomb
Take the low road
And you hit rock bottom
And keep low riding
All the way to Saddam
And back to Gamora
Now you're señora
Fill it with Salt (?!)
And it's all your fault
Get the S&M downtown
At the vault
Dirty little fuckup
Raising hell
But next year we'll all talk about how you fell
Because you're judged on how your records sell

[Chorus 2]

A hero aint nothin' but a sandwich
And a legend aint nothin' but a car
So get locked up in chains to get some fame
And maybe one day you'll be a star
You know a hero aint nothin' but a sandwich
And a legend aint nothin' but a car
So go blow out your brains to get some fame
And maybe one day you'll be a star

And maybe one day you be a star [4x]

Let's break it down
To the bear root essence
Count your fingers
Then count your blessings
True confessions
Ask the questions
Substitute your answers with your obsessions
I take to the break of dawn of time
I do it all the time
But you know it don't come easy
Cause I turn on the TV
I see more and more pain and less and less glory
And it's the same ol' story
Ya see year after year the programs sphered
But I aint subscribing
Till there's live executions on Pay-Per View
Word to Donahue
Put on Melrose Place
Whoop there it is upside your face

[Chorus 3]

Cause a hero aint nuthin but a sandwich
And a legend aint nuthin but a car
So shoot dope in our veins
To get that fame
And maybe one day you'll be a star
You know a hero aint nuthin but a sandwich
And a legend aint nuthin but a star
So go blow out your brains
Like Kurt Cobain
And maybe one day you'll be a star

Mabey one day you'll be a star [4x]

. . .


I walk through the valley of death, 600 deep
Waking up dead from the sleep
Just like a diamond
Watch me shine
Bright like the sun
Make you wanna pull a gun
And buck 2 shots
For the peckerwood rockin'
Put down your glock
Or your block, I'll be knockin'
And dead off your shoulders
Head will roll
Peckerwood P
Funk assassin of soul
Is in control
So have no fear
I'm in this for real
Make it crystal clear
I get a little better each and every year
It's called improvement
Your style's a bowel movement
I'm taking you back to mount CulMcClarin
My whole family's stoned but there aint one sharin'
So whatcha looking at
Huh, why you starin'
Just take a picture
Before I have to hit ya
Ease back kid, gimme some space
Or Whoop there it is upside your face

[Chorus 1]

'Cause a hero aint nothin' but a sandwich
And a legend aint nothin' but a car
So shoot dope in your veins
And get some fame
And maybe one day you'll be a star
You know a hero aint nothin' but a sandwich
And a legend aint nothin' but a car
So go blow out your brains to get some fame
And maybe one day you'll be a star

I live in the house
And it's full of pain
But still out the frame
I'm going insane
I stay on point like a sniper
Chillin' in the viper room
Before it became a tomb
Take the low road
And you hit rock bottom
And keep low riding
All the way to Saddam
And back to Gamora
Now you're señora
Fill it with Salt (?!)
And it's all your fault
Get the S&M downtown
At the vault
Dirty little fuckup
Raising hell
But next year we'll all talk about how you fell
Because you're judged on how your records sell

[Chorus 2]

A hero aint nothin' but a sandwich
And a legend aint nothin' but a car
So get locked up in chains to get some fame
And maybe one day you'll be a star
You know a hero aint nothin' but a sandwich
And a legend aint nothin' but a car
So go blow out your brains to get some fame
And maybe one day you'll be a star

And maybe one day you be a star [4x]

Let's break it down
To the bear root essence
Count your fingers
Then count your blessings
True confessions
Ask the questions
Substitute your answers with your obsessions
I take to the break of dawn of time
I do it all the time
But you know it don't come easy
Cause I turn on the TV
I see more and more pain and less and less glory
And it's the same ol' story
Ya see year after year the programs sphered
But I aint subscribing
Till there's live executions on Pay-Per View
Word to Donahue
Put on Melrose Place
Whoop there it is upside your face

[Chorus 3]

Cause a hero aint nuthin but a sandwich
And a legend aint nuthin but a car
So shoot dope in our veins
To get that fame
And maybe one day you'll be a star
You know a hero aint nuthin but a sandwich
And a legend aint nuthin but a star
So go blow out your brains
Like Kurt Cobain
And maybe one day you'll be a star

Mabey one day you'll be a star [4x]

. . .


Johnny was a bad boy
He was a juvenile delinquent
He had his picture
On the wall of every precinct
He had a rep for hangin' out with his homies
Puffin' on the blunts
And sippin' on the 40's
But when he spoke
Nobody would listen
And when he was home
His parents, they would diss him
They called him a bum
A worthless piece of shit
So over this he had a fit
And now he grabs his bag
And heads for the door
And walks to the neighborhood
Liquor store
Pulls out a gat
And tells the old man, "Hit the floor"
Then breaks open his register drawer
Pulls out the money
Stuffs it in his pocket
Points his pistol
Then he starts to cock it
The man panicks and the gun goes off
Stupid old fool
Made Johnny blow his head off
But he don't care
'Cause he was taught
It ain't a crime
If ya don't get caught

[chorus (3x)]
It ain't a crime if you don't get caught
That's how it is homie like it or not

Now, comin' out of the store
Johnny shot two acpedic Jews
When he got home
His face was on the news
His mom freaked out
Told him, "Get the fuck out"
That's when the pigs rolled up
So, yo he ducked out
He hit the back door
Like his name was Carl Lewis
Dipped to the pay phone
To find out where his crew is
He called up his home boy Jose (word up)
"Can I come over, my man?"
He said, "No way!"
The cop- was here
He was lookin' all over for ya
But I told the pig
I didn't know ya
He said, "Cool,
pick me up at the school
I need a ride 'cause
I'm wanted for homicide"
Johnny's got his gun
And he's on the run
But he don't care
To him, the shit's fun
Now that he's an outlaw
Sorta like Robin Hood
The hard-rock hero
Of the whole neighborhood
If they catch him
He'll wind up in court, but
It ain't a crime if ya don't get caught (ha ha)

[chorus]

It ain't a sale if it don't get bought
It ain't a show if I don't get paid
She ain't a ho if ya don't get laid

. . .


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