Shamrocks and Shenanigans: The Best of House of Pain and Everlast

"Everything must change . . "

Chorus:
Ends, some people will rob their mother
For the ends, rats snitch on one another
For the ends, sometimes kids get murdered
For the ends, so before we go any further
I want my ends

I knew this cat named Darrell, he didn't have a dollar
He was Harvard material, Ivy League scholar
Had a Ph.D., had an M.B.A.
But now he's waiting tables cause their's rent to pay
Companies downsizing, inflation's rising
Can't find a job, he's feeling kind of stressed
Doesn't even feel the effects when he says
Forgot to count how many times he been blessed
So he falls off track, starts smoking the crack
And once it hits his brain, starts a chain react
Sells the shirt off his back, shoes off his feet
He's losing all his teeth, now he's out in the street
And all of sudden he's like, Jesse James
Trying to stick up kids for their watches and chains
But he's from business school, and he's nervous with the tool
So he ends up on his back in a bloody pool

Chorus

I knew this chick named Sally, she had a nice strut
Knew what I wanted, she was up in the cut
Swinging that butt, like race you out here
Only rapped the benz, and rocked the fly gear
Brand name wearing, champagne waving
Jewels around the neck, live style she's craving
Ain't no saving, she's doing enough spending
If you do the lending, she'll do the bending
Straight machine vending, it's money for take
Shopping sprees get her on her knees
And if you hit her with keys of your crib, you acting funny
Come home one day, find her counting out your money
>From the Wetlands, all the way to the Apollo
If you're broke she'll spit, and if you're rich she might swallow

Chorus

I knew these two homeboys, who made a lot of noise
Making money on the block, kids was on they jock
They was tougher than leather like Reverend Run
DMC, they was toting guns
And holdin' weight, goin' out of state
Stackin' mad chips, and pushin' phat whips
Fly jewels and golds, and got no job
And then one did some kid, and one got robbed

Chorus (2x)

[ VERSE 1: Everlast ]
Listen up, learn, you'll get your turn
I'm sendin this out to all it may concern
The party master Everlast is here
Before we begin I'm gonna make this clear
I take no short cuts, Bilal adds dope cuts
If girls were around I'd grab and grope butts
And if she got a man and he tries to step up
It's ashes to ashes and dust gets swept up
Tryin to step to me, boy, you must be sick
Got a nine in my pocket, takin heads out quick
I make my music loud, my parents proud
There's not an artist alive drawing a better crowd
Than the Everlasting operator droppin a groove
To make you get up and dance while I bust this move
And talk about myself, I don't need a partner
Bilal has the cuts, then I'll help start the
Show, let a lyric flow and you'll know
I make you jump up out your seats, scream and say "ho!"
You fall back down completely exhausted
Once you had the sound, but now it seems you lost it
You're worn out, you can't take no more
Since Everlast and Bilal took control of the floor
So jump out your seat, move your feet cause the beat's complete
I'm never missin a beat

(Never missin a beat) --> George Clinton

[ VERSE 2: Everlast ]
There's no need for askin, I'm the Everlastin
My mind is a poll and I'm gonna cast in
The ocean of words and pull out a new rhyme
And if it feels good, then I'll do it two times
Or maybe three, four, or even five times
When I'm done Bilal cuts up my rhyme
He's my partner, not a stand-in
On a 'highway to heaven' just like Mike Landon
And when it comes to battles my boy's a sure win
He's been in more scandals than J.R. Ewing
Busted up more parties than five-o
When it comes to a fight my boy's good to go
So step on stage, we duke it out like men
I beat you down with every word that flows out my pen
And I was the Green Hornet Bilal'd be Kato
Right by my side kickin up dust
And if a sucker acts stupid, grab my gat and bust
You can't run away cause my clip holds ten rhymes
If you been beaten once, I'll beat you ten times
Worse than you ever been beaten before
I don't drop my mic unless my throat gets sore
And that don't happen because when I'm rappin
My rhymes'd beat Gregory Hines if they was tappin
So jump our your seat, move your feet cause the beat's complete
I'm never missin a beat

(Ain't it funky)

[ VERSE 3: Everlast ]
Lyrical and linguistic, somewhat artistic
Some call me a devil, others call me mystic-
al like a crystal ball
And if you step to me you'll take a fall
Just like the Roman Empire
Feel the wrath of a devil's hellfire
Callin me a devil, some think it's a diss
To me it's just a name, it's not stones and sticks
You can't hurt me, I got a positive outlook
Readin my good book
Or maybe some philosophy like Socrates and Plato
Step to me with drugs, I just say no
But I'll drink some lemonade if it's ( ? )
I'm down with DLC and the Styler
The D-i-v-Einstein of rhyme
Is down with me cause he knows that I'm
On my way I will not stray
From the path of knowledge that'll earn my pay
I think for myself, I take advice
And if I did it wrong once, then I do it twice
I check my steps, make sure they're correct
And that's why me and DLC get respect
So jump our your seat, move your feet cause the beat's complete
I'm never missin a beat

You know I rock microphones
Like they got back bones
And I'll roll on your shore like some bisquit dough
Yea you study writin' styles off the next man's flow
Think your Jackson
But your name ain't Bo
I'm only hittin' chick fine as Madalin Stowe
Got a closet in my crib where the hydrophonic grow
Act like you know
Lee toast the chronic
It ain't the season
The reasons strictly economic
So pour the jinn and tonic
Pump the Tony Bennet
If wifey ain't watchin' then I'm runnin' up in it
I'll make ya hot and spicy like some wavos rancheros
Then hit the Knicks game with my man Don Terros
And if the Knicks are winnin'
Then Spike Lee's grinnin'
Next I hit the spot with Stretch Armstrong spinnin'
Sippin wiskeys to my favorite cuts
Watchin' all the earthpieces shake their butts
Some People think I'm nuts 'cause I act a little funny
But play me soft I'll beat ya down like ya stole money

[CHORUS]

Throw your hands in the air and shake your caboose
Politican' with your chickens it's time to get loose
It's the wicked Pain inflicter with the MICKEYs doose doose...

I see a million ....... goin' out on the bottle
The Heavy-Weight Champion never was a role model
I keep it idle with my be -boy brovado
From downtown Brooklyn
All the way to Colorado
Ya someone play the lotto...kid if you feel lucky
I'm not a toy but I'll hunt you down like Chucky
You must be buggin' 'cause I heard you want to buck me
You must be trippin' 'cause your women wants to fuck me

[CHORUS]

Throw your hands in the air and shake your caboose
Politican' with your chickens it's time to get loose
It's the wicked Pain inflicter with the MICKEYs doose doose...

It's four for the cores
It goes on behind closed doors
When you go for yours
It matters the most
You like to brake a post
And drink and make a toast
When you don't come up close
Kid, you be coming up boast (?)
Plus, you playin' coastandoast (?)
But you girls on my Jimmy
Try to give me bassoast
Before you finish, kid that's Spanish for pieces
I'm nuttin' up, cuttin' up
The first man who disses me

[CHORUS]

Throw your hands in the air and shake your caboose
I'm politican with your chickens It's time to get loose
It's the wicked Pain inflicter with the MICKEYs doose doose...

Before you play yourself, kid, put your head in a noose
It's the wicked Pain inflicter...

(Uh)

Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole


I break it off
like a kit-kat
Casue ya cant git that
Worth while style
Underground sound
So now your frontin
Tryin to fake it
Complain ya never make it
And pretty soon you're open Butt naked
So your ass starts to rob and steel
Madd jealous cause my shit's got mass appeal
And now I'm rhymin wit Diamond D
With some brand new shit for the year of '93
I got a loop on my crate
And I'm duckin
The way I'm rhymin on the break
Till the brothers, fuck it
Ya know I got the funky sound
Ya still up un the air
Cause last year I said jump around
I'm rollin thick
So I know you see me
I got mad little white kids,
Wishin' they could be me
So dont step up Cause I'm a come out blastin'
You just a quickie
Punk, I'm Everlastin

Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole

Now let me hear my man( my man, my man, my man)

Yo It's Diamond D
The psycotic, narrotic
Pizza idiotic
Smoke 'em
Boom thats exotic
With my man Everlastin'
Brotha's be askin me
For the Fee
Kid, my name aint Sebastion
Give 'em my mom's demo tapes
Foam'n at the mouth
Dreamin of makin papes
I know your thirsty
Lord have mercy
I got ten acts
And ya want to be the first, G
Come on, dad
Let me breathe yeah
Dont be the lint ball on my sleeve
Wanna be down and diggin wit the crates
Have dough in the pocket
And sleep way past 8
I know the feelin
Ya wanna be the one weelin and dealin
But your shit aint appealin
So make haste
I'll stick it to a like paste
Dont sleep
I got the 9 on my waist

Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole

I lick shots for the Soul Assasins
I lick shots fot the Diamond D
I lick shots for the Everlastin
And I lick shots for the D-i-t-c
Yo I'm more respected
My neck's protected
So dont get started
Just disregard it
Cause I'm retarted
With an agrial stubin
When I see a bootleg
I take my record and dupe it
Scoop it
Just like a news reporter
I'm causin disorder
Because I'm sorta'
Sick of loosin money
When I work so hard
so if I catch ya bootleggin
I'm a pull your card

Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole
Word is Bond
Pop pop pop pop
Grab your chest
Now ya bleedin(punk)lead out ya asshole

[Reggae chant, I ain't even tryin to figure it out]
Lay the fuck down
I said lay down
Lay down

[More reggae]

Watch out bust the style I be kicken
I'll play the geek role and bite your head off like a chicken

I used to kick it with the thugs, pushin' drugs in the park
Makin' every mark that was out after dark
Stick 'em for their loot, cut em up then I'd dash
And when I had to shoot, I'd nutted up for the cash
Ran down the block with my 45 glock
Capped off a round, everybody hit the ground
The next thing I heard was a siren
Couldn't turn around, money grip kept firin'
Runnin' for the ride, I can't go inside
I'd rather that I died, I got too much pride
I guess it's just somethin' that you can't understand
My gun's in my hand, tell me who's the man?

Chorus (x4)

Who's the man with the master plan?
Who's the man? Who's the man?

I used to sell yayo back in the day-o
Ran with the gang, had all the homie's slang
Grams to the quarters, I'm takin' all the orders
Makin' all the runs, Rakin' in the funds
I always got my gun, it's the old six-shooter
King of the neighborhood, crazy white peckerwood
Now people thinkin' Danny lost his mind
It must've been from all the wine man and all the hardtimes
Like chillin' in the park in the dark with the crew
I'm always gettin' high, I saw my man die
Now I got the work and the dough, 25 grand and a 5 keys of blow
I gotta' relocate and start all over
But watch it blow up like a supernova
I keep my game in tight and follow the plan
My gun's in my hand, tell me who's the man?

Chorus (x4)

I got myself locked down in the pen
I ain't got a friend, so here I go again
I gotta' get my props up and earn my respect
Gotta' shake someone up or throw 'em off the top deck
My time's runnin' out, I gotta' spill some blood
If I don't do it quick, shit, my name'll be mud
So I pick out a hardrock and rush him in his cell
Beat his ass down and then say that he fell
And if I gotta' do him, scrw him, the convict's dead
I'll stab him in the chest just to let the rest
Of the cell block know that I'm nobody's ho
My shanks in my hand so tell me who's the man?

Chorus (x4)