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The Sitcom Really Really Isn't All That Real Lyrics - Singles - Weerd Science

Hey Mom, hey Dad, I'm home 

Look, Hunny, it's our little mistake! 

Come give mommie a hug, but be careful, I'm on the rag! 

Mmm, cherry slushies for everyone! 

Haha, how was your day?* 

 

For starters it sucked ass 'cause my boss is a dickhead 

God handed out sticks and gave me the shit-end 

Ridden with hoes, no kiddin' like one's spittin' 

Got two right on my neck, three blister and on my dick-end 

Clock tickin', sickin' and stickin' these rhymes inside of a beat 

When really nobody's listen 

White trash, Johnny No-Cash 

Tried to sell weed but thugs slapped me and took my stash 

 

*Son, what's with the shitface? 

Golly fuck, Dad, heroin prices are through the roof 

and my allowance just won't cut it anymore. I'm jonesin' for a hit! 

Try whorin' your body, like Mom does!* 

 

The local outcast with a rash on my inner thigh 

Tryin' to outrun these bitches who all want me to die 

Waitin' for some rappers to die so maybe I can get a chance 

Without a song about makin' bitches dance 

I hope all the clubs close 

'Cause so many assholes trapped in one building 

Should burn like great white shows 

And all our hope is to pose a threat 

Try to change what rap music hopes and I forget 

 

The sitcom ain't real, what it's about 

Money's for gangstas not high school dropouts 

My life never resembled an episode of Full House 

You stay stuck in this town you'll scream 'til your lungs come out 

The sitcom ain't real, what it's about 

Money's for gangstas not high school dropouts 

I get so frustrated the vein in my forehead pops out 

I'm more dead than dead people buried and forgotten about 

 

*Dad? I need to borrow $300 

$300? What for, son? 

Well, I got Jenny knocked up again! 

Son, did I ever tell you about your mother and the wire-hanger?* 

 

Clout? Nope, none of that 

America hates me like Yasur Arafat 

You fuckers remember that 

I feel obligated to tell you that in the past 

Oh yes, I playa-hated 

Now shit is different, now I'm playa-jaded 

Most of these so called MCs is overrated and outdated 

New dawn, and it's a red one 

The only good rapper to me is a dead one 

 

*Golly, Dad, is it ever O.K. to hit a woman? 

Son, in my day, it wasn't right to hit a woman. 

But now that equal rights have been established, you wallop that cunt! 

And kick her while she's down!* 

 

Nah, I'm just fuckin' around, I know I sound bitter 

I grew up in a town where white kids say "What up, nigga?" 

When they all wanna be, it's ironic to me that that's what I get called 

Just 'cause I wanna jump up on a beat 

So fuck all you assholes, past present and future 

Hope a young thug fires at me, misses and shoots ya 

I wouldn't lie, man, I tell the truth to ya 

There's no tellin' what this fuckin' town'll do to ya 

 

The sitcom ain't real, what it's about 

Money's for gangstas not high school dropouts 

My life never resembled an episode of Full House 

You stay stuck in this town you'll scream 'til your lungs come out 

The sitcom ain't real, what it's about 

Money's for gangstas not high school dropouts 

I get so frustrated the vein in my forehead pops out 

I'm more dead than dead people buried and forgotten about 

 

Most of you assholes all think you gangstas 

99% of you's are fuckin' fake, ain't ya's? 

That's why I hate ya's 

Verbal Heaven's gate knock a fuckin' hole in my head, insert a metal plate 

I feel empty, kinda plastic 

When this shit drops I'ma get my fuckin' ass kicked 

But that's O.K. with me, I'd die for the cause 

'Cause my only purpose in life is to fuck with ya'lls 

I hate your fuckin' guts 'cause my record got bumped back 

You went double-platinum, I went double-hubcap 

A rugrat, you'd be pissed too suckin' a freshly dubbed track 

What the fuck would you do? 

 

*Gee whillikers Dad, does it ever get any easier? 

Son, if there's one thing I've learned it's this: 

We're all gonna live and die in this shitty, shitty town* (He's right) 

 

And the funny thing is, he is right. I bid you farewell 

from Shit Town, America, folks. Get home safe, 

ladies and gentlemen. Hold your girlfriends tight, 

and pretend not to notice their mouths taste like your best friends dick. 

'Cause in the end you're just a small town piece of shit. Smile! 

Until next time folks, it's Weerd Science. Fuck off.