Sorry – please excuse my attitude But if I only had food I wouldn’t be in such a bad mood Now don’t you sons of bitches tempt me I haven’t eaten all day and my fridge is empty ‘cause my monthly income is spent easily On records and Patricia Arquette DVDs Now they’re setting up a show and they expect me to be All happy when they ask me to wreck beats for free Of course you need me to get your party started ‘cause you’re all retarded – it’s hopeless in fact Once again I’m opening act for some bigheaded big shot With bigheaded rhymes in his bigheaded hip hop The worst emcee I’ve ever heard or seen So how come he gets paid and I still work for free? Sure I can rock their crowd and make a really great show But they just need to make sure to pay me with potatoes
[Hook] Y’all just act like this is all a laugh – right? Lot of cash – lot of ass and you call it rap life A crooked kind of view – true – but look it’s nothing new I’m never paid when I play – they just hook me up with food You talk true shit – I’m like “schaa-ptuh-spit” Kind of had it with you maggots ‘cause you’re far too slick Actin’ all rude like you’re lackin’ all screws I’m out of money and kind of hungry so I’m rappin’ for food
[Verse 2] They say that my approach is wrong and I’m loosing it Don’t care about my gear as long as it’s loosely fit Fashion is a toxin and you’re strongly abusing it Don’t mind looking like shit as long as my music keeps Reaching my fans and speaking quite frank I don’t give a fuck about your specially designed pants See I too wear clothes you can’t find in stores Mainly ‘cause they’ve been out of stock since -94 Don’t get me wrong – I love to perform and I’m not greedy But after each and every show they all come up to me with: “sorry we can’t offer you anything – later maybe” Nearly rock stages daily – damn if only they would pay me Cheap scum – it’s your fault I’m looking like a street bum With huge holes through my shoe soles And my blue toes are too cold – I’m stomping my feet Why can’t anybody please get me something to eat?
[Hook]
[Verse 3] Maybe I should just shut up ‘cause what’s the point of Yelling when it’s seems like I’m just talking to myself again And I’m getting tired of the company Maybe the time has come to find someone I like And treat her right for like about a month Then watch her stab me in the back Just about when I’ve begin to like her for real Now doesn’t that sound like fun? Guess it does to me ‘cause I keep doing it time and again Finding a friend for life’s a bitch and then you fry in hell You probably think I’m crazy I can tell But life is like a drying well And words can’t describe its smell At least none that I can spell And I always find myself in situations like these And if you want a peek you can find me Outside the club – kicked to the curb In the gutter with no lover ‘cause they all call me a scrub And when I’m making raps I ain’t into making bucks So just get me some grub I am hungry as fuck