Lyrics of 'Same Old Game' by House Of Pain
If you've been searching for the lyrics of the song Same Old Game by House Of Pain for a long time, start warming up your voice, because you won't be able to stop singing it.
Do you love the song Same Old Game? Can't quite understand what it says? Need the lyrics of Same Old Game by House Of Pain? You are in the place that has the answers to your desires.
I'll get your dome piece open just like a New York deli
I'm mad cool like Garth Manzarelli
You've seen 'em on the tele with Ralph "The Mouth"
I rock the east, west, north, and the south
Without a doubt I've been know to turn the party out
You want clout let me show you what it's all about
'Cause I can give it up more than Madonna
You want to plea it's not guilty your honor
'Cause I can rock it all kinds of live ways
Like my man Dennis Miller does it on Fridays
I get closer than the Nine Inch Nails
I'm the opposite of the definition of stale
I'm fresher than the lettuce in your produce section
If you come to get us, better bring protection
I could rock a Texan, I could rock an Asian
I could rock the spectrum from black to caucasian
CHORUS:
It's the same old, same old, blaze-blah
Sippin' on the forty and puffin' la
I got the sound byte that'll get ya uptight
You wanna diss then there might be a fist fight
I measure 10 on the Richter scale
So call me Moby Dick and watch the great white whale
You could play the Ishmael but you're doomed to fail
And if you didn't know you better read the tale
'Cause I give mail every time I play
And I can take it up town J. Disco's way
And I can take it back down through the depths of hell
And blow up the spot like an artillery shell
'Cause I've been all the way to the grave and back
And mad crews are comin' out crazy, whack
CHORUS
I'm sicker than the Aids sores with band-aids
If my eyes are blood shot, I just put on my shades
I never got good grades, 'cause I was actin' the fool
Duckin' out of my school, hidin' smokin' a wool
And I never knew the plague until it claimed my cousin
I acted like he wasn't, but junkies come a dime a dozen
I've seen the needle and the damage done
A syringe in the vein is like a loaded gun
In your mouth blowin' up the back side of your mental
The only records they can verify are your dental
The instrumental is my forum
And when I rock the mic I do it with poise and the quorum
CHORUS
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