Friends and Nervous Breakdowns (2005)

Lyrics to Weerd Science’s debut album, 2005’s Friends and Nervous Breakdowns!

Friends and Nervous Breakdowns

Tracklist: 1. Intro 2. Conspiracy Theories w/out Mel Gibson 3. My War, Your Problem 4. Ordinary Joe (WCH) 5. Girl, Your Baby’s Worm Food 6. Blueprint 7. In a City With No Name 8. God Bless Pepsi 9. Fuck You and Your Filthy A&R Dept 10. Joshua, They’re Laughing at You 11. Superfriends 12. How to Be A… 13. The Sitcom Really Really Isn’t All That Real 14. Methods n Test Tubes 15. Kill Your Rapper

2. Conspiracy Theories w/out Mel Gibson

I’m just a ghost of my former self
Formin’ a non-formidable more bionicle toxin of mental health
Was never born into wealth
I jumped out of my mother with two horns stickin’ outta myself
God is in the details
Relay my message now from what planet he hails
It pales in comparison to mix with the fuckin’ beat
Like rookies in Harrison did it
Rooky be handlin’ his business
Rottin’ your fuckin’ brain like the box that you’re starin’ in
The unescapable, unexplainable, band-unbreakable, unmistakable
Scent of hatred stuffed up in my nasal
Breathe it in and leave it in, let is soak in these heathens
And these demons could really use a good ass reamin’
So I give it to ’em, spit it to ’em
Apocalyptic visions of cities in ruin
I’m doin’ whatever it takes for the sake of argument
Show you that the target’s us
While you lay on your back bannin’ to fuck

Now ha ha ha ha
Laugh if you want to
Just when you think you’re safe
Uh-Oh, they got you
All the other sheep are dead
Who you gonna flock to?
Get in line motherfucker before they pop you

*The FBI plants the chip inside your body
from a needle that they stuck you with at a crowded party
How would you know it, there were so many people around?
I know it sounds crazy, trust me, believe it*

I been all over this Earth to search for somethin’
And since birth I been cursed to dispurse the substance
And accusations, relations and it cause hesitations
My blood pressure rise like the state of inflation
I’m pacin’ two steps, I turn around fast
But I’m one step to late, sand in the hour glass
I’m standin’ here like an asshole and wastin’ my chance
While I live here in this black hole, see it at a glance
You’ll miss it, gauranteed, you’ll never get it
Let it eat away at your skin, ooh God bless it
My vision stays hidden like telephone women
I’m givin’ everything I got and I’m so tired of livin’
Get ’em wild and I feel it’s my duty to tell the truth
And I’m sorry that all I got is warnings and no proof
And I know that none of you beleive my conspiracy theories
I say ’em loud but nobody hears me

Ha ha ha ha
Laugh if you want to
Just when you think you’re safe
Uh-Oh, they got you
All the other sheep are dead
Who you gonna flock to?
Get in line motherfucker before they pop you

*The FBI’ll make certain to know your whereabouts
and all your contacts, they love watching us little rats
Barely scattered high-rolling gangsters
You’re sadly mistaken, it’s all of us, believe me*

It’s like the Brains in DC, man the police
Somebody stuck HR, now the man is crazy
Maybe it just helps to have an explanation for myself
I shake in public on me the eyes I felt ’em
On my back like Eastpacks watchin’ over my actions
I can live with that
But the inside of my brain, fuck I can’t have that
They couldn’t possibly understand the thoughts of a simple man
Who’s a simpleton, got a simple plan from a simple family
Damn, this is higher-ups
Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to ’em
I’m on to ’em
Paranoid? Yes
Anxious, always
The moment is upon us ’cause they slippin’ in they old age
No matter who run up on us we run it right back at them
We attack ’em with the cyber fiber-optics psychotic
Chronic induced spasms
Yeah I have ’em, I punch and I jab and I grab at ’em

Now ha ha ha ha
Laugh if you want to
Just when you think you’re safe
Uh-Oh, they got you
All the other sheep are dead
Who you gonna flock to?
Get in line motherfucker before they pop you

Conspiracy theories without Mel Gibson
Conspiracy theories without Mel Gibson

3. My War, Your Problem

Every one of my lyrics when you hear it
it’ll burn your face as sulfuric acid
If you’re holdin’ the microphone I suggest you pass it.
Hand it over quickly
Sickly’s the only way I know how to drop it
Every time I kick it people look at me like my name’s
Ripley’s Believe it or Not
Got a wonderful time slot here at the Zero Hour
Been laughed at for rappin’ ever since I was a little coward
By all the kids who towered over me
Overpowered me and beat the shit out of my face
Like it’s the job clock in an hour
And how are we the ones who powered these machines
And we can’t get nothin’ done, we controlled by kings and queens
The unseen son, the one in the attic
Hope the dream don’t come true
America, she loves you
Without us who would bag up the groceries
Or price up the clothes that you normally don’t see
On average joes, oh that’s me
Little dirtbag rapper and glad to be

I like my hip-hop dropped in tip-top condition
I keep on spittin’ but no one listens
I must drop fire, I can not waiver a fall
This is our only hope, this is a war
This is a war

*Every picture you see is a reflection of marketing
The targeting of certain audiences as only a major corporation could
It’s simple: They feed you shit. Just stop eating it, genius.

Run up in the Universal Office and find Doug Morris
Pound him in his orifice, his life ain’t real pretty
Like bitches that sing choruses
These forces are forcin’ us to try to relate
In spite of what they lead you to believe in the first place
Can’t move in the city ’cause it’s packed so tight
Everybody up in my business, dissin’ the lyrics I write
Dismissin’ my raps off their shoulder like the never happened
Actin’ so thuggish like they tough like Tinactin
It’s rubbish, it’s all bubble gum to me
Nobody bumpin’ me stoppin’ by your record company
I’ma flatten MC’s with platinum CDs
You see these two fists? They each got emptied
Tons of Budweiser, got balls of steel wire
Like a cyborg and supposedly ya’ll are keepin’ it real
But mostly ya just provoke and poke at me
And hopefully you remember your jokes to me

I like my hip-hop dropped in tip-top condition
I keep on spittin’ but no one listens
I must drop fire, I can not waiver a fall
This is our only hope, this is a war
This is a war

*If fever rap in you was approved by test audiences it’s got nothin’ to do with you.
The real gangstas are old white men putting these records out.
Hip-hop? That’s the last thing they give a fuck about.*

By any means necessary I bury an adversary
Every vocal performance it’s important yes very very
If you wanna beat all then you got motorcall
And I’m on the line, we can meet at the grassy knoll at ten
Maybe rap was never hip-hop to them
Seems like it’s just a cash crop to them
So don’t claim you spit it proper then
This war must never end
I can no longer pretend to be down
If I die in a battle that’s fine
I got a potion named Revolution number 9
I got a heart that beats for the art
This is hip-hop for the love
Not a 1 on the charts

I like my hip-hop dropped in tip-top condition
I keep on spittin’ but no one listens
I must drop fire, I can not waiver a fall
This is our only hope, this is a war
This is a war

This is a war, this is a war
This is a war, this is a war
This is a war, this is a war

4. Ordinary Joe (WCH)

I’m hollow to the core, yeah my bones are empty
No marrow, no mass, but heart I got plenty
Though no blood flows through these veins, somethin’ is in me
Lyndon, Jimmy, Deloris, Jerry and Uncle Ricky
My whole family tree ’bout as normal as me
Everybody got they own story of what’s supposed to be
And what could’ve been, what should’ve been
Should’ve been led on to the fact that I’m destined to never win
How come every record I’m on ends up in the 99 cent bin?
Pick it up if you need something to wipe while you’re shittin’
Can’t pipe down, boy, rappers need rippin’
I’ll never be like Mike or even Scottie Pippen
Goofy A&R tell me the elements are missin’
Chippin’ in his two cents, listen, nothin’ is smitten
Fittin’ on leavin’ more brisk than Lypton
Nipped in the bud, how come your bomb record was a dud?

I should reap what I sow,
My life is just so ordinary, I’m a ordinary joe
On the contrary this a new all-time low
This is a new all-time low
I should reap what I sow,
My life is just so ordinary, I’m a ordinary joe
On the contrary this a new all-time low
On second thought I get another chance tomorrow

This plastic life that we fed intravenously
The tubes that we watch religiously
Not real, nothin’ is, nothin’ begins without an end
This is big business but back to the test again
Justice will fail us we must look from within
This is the truth, I got the blueprints right here in the booth
Is you in? Then jump in, the deadpool is now accepting applications
For the nameless and faceless
The has-beens and the almost famous
Fucked in our anus without a reach-around
Reach way down until you found that dark somethin’ hidin’ out
Smoke from my lungs and flush from my liver
‘Til it slivers out my mouth hole
I remember how life was before my downfall
Before these wars closed in
Soaked in sweat, A.K.A.
Hard work’ll get you nowhere, don’t forget

A working class hero’s nothin’ to be
Trust me, don’t do it, I watched my old man go through it
And my whole family live with no respect, we give it
Are you here to pay homage are you here to bear witness?
Working class hero’s nothin’ to be
Trust me, don’t do it, I watched my old man go through it
And my whole family live with no respect, we give it
Are you here to pay homage are you here to bear witness?

Smidgeons and digits and acres of paper
Negotiations and crunchin’ numbers, contracts
A new savior has attached to this beat like a serial rapist
The girls with short skirts and high heels on they feet
You’ll never defeat me, I’m a centipede
You cut off an end of me but I only grow back stronger
There’s no remedy
Honestly, I never drank hennessy, I can’t afford it
I only drank forties, lordy lordy
No fuckin’ bitches’ll court me, distort the image of the world
But more importantly, there’s more to me than meets the eye
I cordially invite you into the mind of a ordinary joe
with an ordinary name livin’ in a ordinary house
never see things like fame, or money, bitches and champaigne
Your cars are lame, beats are weak and your raps sound the same
Ain’t a god damned game, stop sayin’ it is
I break my ribs tryin’ to fill in these ad-libs
Mad kids can’t see with closed eye lids
Still, half these MC’s don’t know who I is

I should reap what I sow,
my life is just so ordinary, I’m a ordinary joe
On the contrary this a new all-time low
This is a new all-time low
I should reap what I sow,
my life is just so ordinary, I’m a ordinary joe
On the contrary this a new all-time low
On second thought I get another chance tomorrow

5. Girl, Your Baby’s Worm Food

*Hey, what’s up? This is a true story about a girl I know.
Not like Return of the Living Dead was a true story, this is… there’s been no fabrications.
This is all truth, exactly the way I saw it. Listen up.*

Girl, oh, I gotta tell you somethin’
Hey, if you really knocked up by my homie I’ma punch you in the stomach, ho
There you go with your math, he don’t need it, no
Girl you better count your dough ’cause this August yo’ man is leavin’

Come on girl, you do the math. He’s already takin care of all three other kids
Without a question asked and now your gonna ask him to have the baby? What are you, crazy?
You done got four kids by four different fathers
Haven’t you ever heard of a thing called condoms?
How come none of the other baby’s daddies want ’em?
When my kids grow up yours are gonna rob ’em
And I don’t want that. It’s easy–
Trip down the stairs or a baseball bat to her belly’ll please me
Throw on a black mask, aim for the midsection and crack that ass
Now, I know it sounds harsh, but it’s not.
The chick has a kid every time she farts
Illegitimate illiterate little bastards
Dead by eighteen, but it’s just faster

Now, it’s not like he’s innocent
I mean, the girl get knocked up from havin sex on the internet
And he didn’t remember and he nutted up in her
And now I gotta fix it, cuz he’s in love with her
And I can’t let a homie take a fall
A condom? I’d have put tinfoil on my balls
Ain’t no time to stall, cuz the time is now
Do something quick, before the kid comes out
Look at the trouble that your dick shot out
Here’s a couple hundred dollars, get the fuckin thing out
There’s abound a better reason to get rid of the kid
Take two steps back just look at the bitch
She’s one of the most crookedest bitches I’ve ever seen
She been dishin’ out kids since she was thirteen
And I know that you trust her
But everyone from here to Illinois fucked her, dummy

Think back when you first met the slob
Wasn’t she married? Her husband had a job
Supportin’ his kid, one was his
She was busy suckin’ your dick in your Eclipse
She did the same thing to you, man
You better take matters into your own hands, band and make a plan
And jam your fuckin fist and fuckin’ grab the kid.
Pull it out by it’s leg, it’s your only chance
You wanna be the only man with a new born? (huh?)
As soon as it was born it smelled like Newports (ew!)
Strangle the bitch with the umbilical cord
Let it be a lesson to the rest of your whores

You’re the biggest piece of trash I’ve ever seen, yeah.
Girl, he’s a good man…

Wormfood, Wormfood
Yeah, your baby’s wormfood

6. Blueprint

I got a story to tell
Check check

Krazy glue, make sure you get it in the cracks and crevices
To put me back together is not an easy task,
But it’s not like I asked you to do it
It was your choice the whole time, you knew it
So you’re here to build me back up?
Start with the legs and work your way up
Used to use ’em to run so please pay extra attention
When you piece the flesh back together section-by-section
“There’ll be some slight bruising.”
Yeah, I figured that much, wow they both look great
“Yeah but don’t try to stand up, just relax.”
O.K., I can handle that,
Thank you so much for this, how could I ever pay you back?
Movin’ on to the hips, strap ’em in place
Wrap the skin around, find my dick, attach it at the base
Put my balls on, yup right there
Before it was shattered it was way bigger I swear
Wow, this is awesome. This is… super phat, awesome

Father, are you speakin’ to me?
Every little cunt that I fall in love with,
She ends up breakin’ me
Put me back together, assemble my brain
It’s my worst enemy
Look at these people stare, I tremble
Why do they hate me?

Get out my stomach! Wow, that feels great
Like butterflies, this is like fate
Or destiny that we met
You might be the best thing that ever happened to me
And it’s a promise I won’t forget
Work up to the chest, yes, perfect
Strap my neck on, “Here, see if you can turn it”
Aw, it’s a little stiff but nothin’ to be concerned with
You’re doin’ a wonderful job hunny
“Well, you deserve it”
Really? Why stop now? Make sure my back’s in order
Focus on the shoulder blades ’cause they tend to get sore
from all the punchin’ and kickin’ I do
“Why do you do that?”
‘Cause hip-hop kicks my ass and I try to kick it back
It’s awesome, I can’t wait for you to see it and believe it
‘Cause I know I can do it with the best of ’em
“Well, we’ll see about that”
Aw, shit, she’s just like the rest of ’em
Aw, yeah, and when the butterflies turn into butcher knives

I’ma try to disregard that last comment
‘Cause this is the most crucial part of my reinstallment
My mind, see it’s not just placin’ my brain in
My memories are scattered on the floor in the basement
Oh, see that one? It was seventh grade her name was Meagan
I fell in love for the first time, and I changed
And I learned a lot at a young age
Like how to deal with real pain
Adults, they didn’t care, my friends thought I was so lame
“Hm, that’s funny”
Well, put it in
“I don’t know, I mean, do you really need it again?”
They’re my memories
“Well, we’ll make new ones”
But I don’t wanna lose ’em, I mean this is what made me who I am
“But I built you and I should have a say, don’t you agree?”
No, I’m me and you’re you, see?
Two different people, not one.
I knew it was only a matter of time before trouble begun
and the moral of the story is (Get out, bitch)
Aw, fuck it, Self Destruct

Come on, everybody

Bye, everybody

*The Illuminati is real, and they are watching you, right now.
They are inside of your television, your telephones. Be careful.
They are inside your mother, and your father. Be careful.*

7. In A City With No Name

So whatcha think about mortality
How are these motherfuckers running America
Squeaking by like the sound of my sneakers
Weaker versions of their father
Hardly none of you motherfuckers even bothered to vote (nope)
Neither did I, seamless as I
Try to mend myself into the thread of American life
I find myself all alone with a knife and a cell phone
I feel so out of place like Melrose
Pop culture, silicone, synonyms, clones
Snare drums and microphones
Head trips and assholes, I’m all alone
I’m going home, I am no longer the Joe
Who pretends and smiles and acts
Like he’s not one of the sickest dudes doing rap

I’m all alone and I don’t care
I knew it was gonna suck ass when I got here
If you’se a gunner you can get yourself shot here
In a city with no name I remain anonymous
I’m all alone and I don’t care
I knew it was gonna suck ass when I got here
If you’se a gunner you can get yourself shot here
In a city with no name I remain anonymous

So whatcha think about this fallacy families
I don’t know when Alex be getting on Mallory
How are we going to explain that we hungry
And we need calories to maintain our energy
And people never know my name. President Bush
Don’t tell me it’s a freedom they wanted
Look at the war that you started
Quit talking to me like I’m half retarded, it ain’t working
I think so damn hard my fucking brain is hurting
I’m spurtin’ out shit that you wouldn’t normally hear
Here I go, be it for bite another rapper, no
Atmosphere Kid is gonna crack this year
I’da had a record deal if I was black this year (What up, nigga?)

So what you know about higher ups who’s powered by coward’s bucks
Who talk like they better but really they just as fowl as us
Out of luck and out of time, out of reasons to pretend
That I’m one of the happiest people alive; I’m not, I’m rotten
I’m spottin’ my chance and I’ma take it
Whether something happens or not
I got nothing to lose, I’ma tell you how I feel
And hopefully some of you mother fuckers’ll listen this year
I got nothing to prove, I’ma tell you how I feel
And hopefully some of you mother fuckers’ll listen this year

8. God Bless Pepsi

It’s so simple, got a whole list of issues
Inside of my brain gathered right next to the temple
Write all my rhymes in pencil so I can erase ’em
The morning after I write ’em I wake up, read ’em and hate ’em
Read ’em verbatim, lay them down and made them understand
Sometimes a rapper suck, there’s nothing I can do to change ’em
Man, it’s like I told you before
You don’t listen to me so I don’t listen no more
Give me a huge label advance and a chance at fame
And I, I’ll sing and dance go right with the grain
Sponsor soda companies promote with no shame
Smile, shake hands, damn I love this game
But just when you think that I’m your best friend
I’ma stab you in your fucking back, time and time again
‘Til the blood soaks through your sports coat
And with my Pepsi money, I’ma drink Coke
You’ll be stifle to trifle my cycling
Ease the pain of the knife that’s in my fucking back
Or is that a hose?
They’re siphonin’ my spirit, man, got to attack
Counter they blows with blocks
In the name of all that is not wack
Kick my motherfucking system into autorap
White or black, slap your face ’til your head’s not attached
Rocket blast, feel the slap back of payback hurts
But I’ve had to nurse wounds that are so much worse

Now first, I would like to call attention to your verse
The reason I’m so full that I’m about to burst
‘Cause you keep feeding me nothing but shit
And tell you what, I’m gosh darn tired of it
First, I would like to call attention to your verse
The reason I’m so full that I’m about to burst
‘Cause you keep feeding me nothing but shit
And tell you what, I’m gosh darn tired of it

Damn skippy

Fission fusion using the brand of raps
Not currently used in hip hop
Lips locked, never was part of my agenda
To bend over and open up my ass cheeks
So ya’ll can dip cock (weep weep)
On the radar, making other MC’s jealous and green
Like they name was Ralph Nadar
Yeah, I’m broke as fuck and I got no paper
Shoulda just stuck with the rock, it’ve been much safer
Trying to make a dent in the world like a crater
The illest of traitors, it’s me, Darth Vader
Nothing can save ya, peace out, see you later
The dollar fifty in my wallet forcing me to hate you
Take you on a little journey through my life
Where dad slept on the sofa, never with his wife
Even as a toddler, man, it struck me as odd
But it only getting odder, I never looked to god
I just wrote rhymes on paper that’s lined
And everyone of my lines reflects the times
That I live in, giving a shit, not me
Like metal band guitars
Every one of my lyrics lately’s in drop-D

Now you can’t force a revolution, choosing sides
Offer a helping hand to the dumb and blind
Use my record like the guide line, for you to follow along
Speak up and then swallow your tongue
You’re hardcore, I’m hollow core
My blue collar tour, working class hero
Shit gets piled on
I really hate all these motherfuckers I smiled on
I’m lying on a cold table
But feel like I’m dying on a rope or a cable
I’ll be unable to breath the air through my nasal passage hole
Masses don’t believe me, nobody believes me
Oh, ya’ll think it’s easy to move up like George and Weezy (pfft, exsqueeze me)

Damn skippy

9. Fuck You and Your Filthy A&R Dept

(thanks to cornwalshandcalabash for the help/framework!!!)

*Ahem* Um, yeah, we’re gonna… we’re gonna try somethin’
A little bit different here. It’s really fast.

The boy oughta rap but you don’t get attack
I talk about my flow but I’m nobody’s head
Don’t forgot to get Jack when you come around
Talkin’ ’bout how you’re gonna put it down
No more, no less, know it’s complex, try to get these concepts
Sounds like nonsense but it’s not ’cause deep within the content
You gonna find out that you can’t hide out
Or make sense of the science, open the fence
Gonna break down the wall that’s holdin’ us
Janex ain’t even know it’s over us.
We’re gonna kick you in the dick for provokin’ us
In the back they were chokin’ up
Fuck that slow shit, hold it up
Truck’s out back, and it’s loaded up
Filled with chicks, we can rope it up
Really? Well, no but I had to go put a hold under the miniature dog to get like that.
Gonna make us all fall, hold steady on the front lines soon to talk
C’mon, I’ve got the supplies, you’ve got to realize
The lies the lies makin’ me revolutionize
It ain’t gonna be nice, there gon’ be real fights
They want blood, I’ll give ’em blood like in real life
They want blood, I’ll give ’em blood like in real life

Dedicated to your A&R, fuck you!
Dedicated to your street team, fuck you!
Dedicated to your management
It ain’t hard to see Science ain’t happenin’
Dedicated to your stylist, fuck you!
Dedicated to your CEO, fuck you!
Dedicated to your publicist,
I don’t give a goddamn if you like my shit, bitch!

Goddamn, the heart of a man, been pounded on over and over again
Stuffed in the sock in the mouth of the one who was saying it. *Gasp.*
This little rhyme is my moment of zen.
So don’t pretend for a second my skills are adolescent.
Have a moment of silence for every mic that I’m wrecking
I reckon you should take a second, think about whose shit you reppin’
I ain’t lettin’ it slide, I’m trying to forwarn you.
Rappers, a place to hide your gun, they talkin’ for you
Your vest might be bulletproof but I guarantee,
That as soon as I see you, I’ma spit right through it.
Oh, I’ll do it. You’da never knew it.
But inside of my body the heart of a juggernaut
BABABBA and nothin’ can stop me

You don’t like my record, dude, fuck you!
Oh, you don’t like my shit, man, fuck you!
You don’t like my record, eat a dick
‘Cause Weerd Science just doesn’t give a fuckin’ shit!

Somethin’ got to give in the city I live
Please don’t shoot up my house, shit, I still live in my mom’s crib.
Givin’ it all in spite of what people say
What they do, man, they laugh at me but aw, fuck you
It’s simple, rip up these motherfucker’s credentials
It’s essential for a rebel to never settle in battle
Over and over until he gets killed in the thick of it
Man, I may be white but you be dumb, stupid think I’m chicken shit
Kickin’ it and rippin’ it bring your shit to the ring
I’m fixin’ to sicken it the way I spit it, sick of this bickerin’
Man, itchin’ to get a motherfuckin’ rhyme off
Yeah, it’s Weerd Science motherfucker ’bout to sign off

You don’t like my nigga’s record, fuck you
You don’t like my nigga’s shit, fuck you
You don’t like my nigga’s record, fuck you
Boy you don’t want none of this motherfuckin’ Weerd Science, bitch

Dedicated to your A&R, fuck you.
Dedicated to your street team, fuck you.
Dedicated to your management
It ain’t hard to see Science ain’t happenin’
Dedicated to your stylist, fuck you.
Dedicated to your CEO, fuck you.
Dedicated to your publicist
I don’t give a goddamn if you like my shit, bitch.

Man, fuck you!
How ’bout I come out of this booth and straight knock your fucking feet off? Fuck ’em.
This is Weerd Science up in this mother fucker. Yeah, for real. I’ll come out this shit
And straight whoop you like…like…a baby seal! Fuck you. You heard. FUCK. YOU. Bitch.
Did you really just say you were gonna knock his feet off?
You’re god damn right.
Oh, dip!

10. Joshua, They’re Laughing at You

Hi beautiful, I missed you while I was gone
Sup Homie, I wrote this song

I’d be better off dead
‘Cause both chedder and bread
Have alluded me since I was a little shithead
So instead of workin’ a nine to five job,
I’ve settled for what I am: a white trash slob
So I guess I’m destined to sit in this cesspool
Can somebody pass me a blade or a pistol? (please!)
I’ve had it up to here, I’m most sincere
I poke my own eyes out until they’re tears
So people think that I feel, but they wrong ’cause I don’t
Soaked in my sweat, grab the mic and go for broke
‘Cause I’m tryin’ to forget just a day in the life,
I love all my friends but they stab with they knife
They go cut, cut, cut, stab stab stab
I continue fightin’ and I grab grab grab
On the mic to try to right all my wrongs
But my heart is exactly where it belongs

There’s a reason there’s a cut, there’s a friend, there’s a foe
There’s a lover, there’s a girl, there’s a woman, there’s a ho
People never know, they act like they do
Joshua, they’re laughing at you
There’s a reason there’s a cut, there’s a friend, there’s a foe
There’s a woman, there’s a girl, there’s a slut, there’s a ho
People never know, they act like they do
Joshua, they’re laughing at you

I dissect every signal that my brain intercepts
I wiggle ’round the black, find a light that I reflect
But every time I get to a happy memory
There’s an asshole right there to fuck it up for me
No high school degree, nothin’ comin’ easily
I died yesterday, what you don’t remember me?
Aw, great, fuck ’em anyway
Send another rapper to me, stuff ’em anyday
Book ’em and cuff ’em and throw the motherfuckin’ book away,
Had enough of ’em, stuff ’em in a box and drive away
And pray you don’t feel the breadth of my dismay
‘Cause I slay any opponent with a fuckin’ word to say
I’m way way serious, I no longer play
Sit in this same room, let my rage run astray
And just when you think that my tank is on empty
Somebody’s right there just waiting to tempt me

Now, as my blood thickens and it slows to a crawl
And it flows through my heart, by the middle of it all
I’m an asshole, I’m a fuckup, a scumbag
Instead of a baby, man, I should’ve been a cumrag
Inside my head, nothin’ but confusion
Don’t ask me for answers, I got no solutions
I got potions, bruises, contusions
Scrapes and cuts, the push that I’m usin’
American Idol, fuck Clay and Reuben
American Homicidal Recital’s what I’m doin’
Loosen the grip that these dickheads got
While they hold under your hips and pound your brown spot

11. Super Friends

featuring Danny Ilchuck

Here come the superfriends!

Callin’ all my super friends, I’m puttin you on notice
Don’t think I didn’t see, don’t think I didn’t note it
Don’t think I don’t care, don’t think I’ll you slide
Don’t think I’m not comin’ for you in good time
Why you askin’ now if you can fuck my bitch?
Shoulda asked before she was suckin’ your dick
And now you wanna know what you can do for me?
Motherfucker, fuck off, die immediately
Super friends, are you stupid then?
I’ll ask you again, are you stupid, man?
Did you really think I wouldn’t take offense?
Flip the fuck out and shoot you dead
It’s the ones you trust that gon’ let you down
It’s the ones you love that’s gon’ turn you out
‘Cause they the only ones who really really know how
And your super friends better look the fuck out
All my super friends, where you at where you at?
Brian, Phil, Jay, Pat
None of you ever really had my back
To say the shit that you said and to act like that
Ya’ll is lucky I’m a man of peace
‘Cause ya’ll wouldn’t see me behind the fuckin’ trees
Doin’ time glad he proved what I mean
Got a shot gun for all my friendemies.

Beware of your super friends
They’re not your super friends
I’m scared of my super friends
Kill all your super friends

Nine out of ten of your homies are just the opposite
Disguised double-agents, to my quite obvious
That’s why I hate ya’s, ya’ll ain’t super friends,
You’s are super-duper stupid, must be how ya daddy’s raisin’ ’em
Stays in ’em what they taught ’cause they cave in from the thought
Of ever makin’ ’em understand that I hate ’em
And at the cost of soundin’ jaded,
But jaded is what I am and I’ma continue my hatred,
Of course I’m aimin’ at them
Now who would be the first person to shit on your name?
That’s a superfriend, causin’ you such super pain
But I got a super plan, pull out your super hand
Make a super fist and swing the shit as hard as you can
Now all of a sudden they don’t say shit again
YOu fuckers make my tummy sick like aspirin
You probably have no idea the trouble you in
Or that my mom and dad have a really big knife collection
And that means I can choose a weapon to dispose of you
Have many different blades to poke holes in you
Oh, all of you, payback’s a bitch
I heard what you said, you faggot piece of shit
I hope you’re listenin’, the shit you’re slippin’ in
You might wanna prepare your flesh for some healthy rippin’ in

Beware of your super friends
They’re not your super friends
I’m scared of my super friends
Kill all your super friends

*Ill, you’re my super friend.
Yeah, I’m glad you didn’t get upset the time I porked your girlfriend, my bad
Yeah, it’s cool. Oh yeah, did I tell you? I smoked your whole weed stash. The money I promised fell through.
Well that’s ok, because I just stopped by your mom’s house, drug her pussy out and left my nut on the couch.
Ill… your sister’s pregnant.
What?
I didn’t mean it. I’da told you before but I knew you’d get heated.
I shot your father, I’m sorry. But he walked in at the wrong time while I was gettin’ mine.
Ill, that’s fine.
Yeah, but there’s more. Damn your grandma looks good on all fours.
The bitch slapped my ass like she was Zsa Zsa Gabor
I bet back in the day she was quite the whore.*

Beware of your super friends.
At any given moment they might be lurking around any corner
To wait for you when you least expect it
To stab you in the fucking back.
And remember, and remember
Keep your friends close,
And keep your superfriends closer.

12. How to Be A…

Step one in your mission: gather information
Get on the internet, perfect for bomb makin’
First you need some fertilizer, it’s the shit
For construction of a bomb, also the main ingredient
Some ammonium nitrate, preferably light-weight
Rent the rider’s truck, think about the impact it might make
Mix ’em all together and your work can be seen
for sixteen miles by the naked eye, not to mention T.V.
The American media, greedier than the average meat eater
The seedier the plan the more they gonna love it, man
The more they wanna get they hands on an exclusive
You gon’ be famous as long as you can do this
Make all your purchases two months apart from one another
In different states and go undercover
Never use a credit or a check just cashed
‘Cause they will try to track you after the blast
Man, after this bomb goes off, as long as you made it correct
We gonna inject the American step-ladder with a little dose of disrespect
A “Fuck you” to the U.S. for every soul that God hasn’t blessed (Fuck you!)

There’s a bomb in your city, in your town
Duck down, it’s gonna blow any minute now
Chi-Pow! Gather the info and the know-how
Follow the plan close so you don’t go down
There’s a bomb in your city, in your town
Duck down, it’s gonna blow any minute now
Chi-Pow! Gather the info and the know-how
Follow the plan close so you don’t go down

Step two in your mission: a building you should find
A federal institution? That should suit us just fine
But how to get in? Hmm, good question
Always follow the plan close, don’t go in guessin’ (duh!)
Security codes nobody knows
So when the janitor’s about to leave squeeze one in his dome
Shit you ’bout to kill thousands, what’s one up close?
Now quick, grab his clothes, we’re almost there (yeah!)
Inside with the bomb, I know just where to place it (where?)
In the basement, adjacent to maintenance
Face it toward the wall so when the motherfucker blows
The whole foundation’ll fall in
Oh yeah, don’t forget to wipe down everything you touch
‘Cause one fingerprint is one fingerprint too much
And detectives’ll try to find clues and signs
That’ll point the finger towards the culprit, so leave nothin’ behind
Hide out in the bathroom when the A.M. rush and
Walk out like nothin’ happened, unnoticed and untouched
This is gonna work it’s a promise you can count on
This is revenge for anyone who’s been pounded on

Step three in your mission is never easily executed
So whatever was part of the original blueprint: Do it
Stick to the original plan, don’t stray from it
Since no clues were left the FBI got a “Who Dun It?”
It was 9:30 AM when the bomb exploded
Many lives were lost, the media noticed
Jesus, I wish I could say nobody felt a thing
But so many were trapped inside the building still breathing
Don’t think about that now, calm down, don’t panic
What the fuck did you think was gonna happen?
You put a bomb in the bottom floor of a government facility
Now reality hits you, testing your moral agility
Listen, by now you should be like six hours away
Find a cheap hotel, rest and hold your thoughts at bay
See, you’re not just on the run from people in general
But also from yourself, stealth you must be from your mental
Tomorrow’s a big day, you gotta cross the border
Hide out in Mexico for three months and no shorter
Keep tabs on the progress of the investigation
The news broadcasts but now they’ve blamed it on the Arab Nation
Things’ll die down soon, you’ll be in the clear
Three months becomes six months, six becomes a year
People’s attention turn to more important things
Congratulations, you have been successful

Let’s retrack our steps and look deeper into the mission
The bomb was just a song, a foundation, nothin’ was missin’
It could blow up, no fingerprints, ’cause the fans and the media
Tried to dig through your past and try to prove that you’re fake
The government building is the club and the DJ’s are the detectives
Inspectin’ your shit to see if it’s a record they wanna be reppin’
The escape is how not to let all the shit go to your head
The janitor that you killed was another MC instead
But you didn’t use a gun, your song was just hotter than his
And the tracks are the people that died when the bomb was detonated

13. The Sitcom Really Really Isn’t All That Real

*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 holes, no kiddin’ like once bitten
Got two right on my neck, three blister and on my dick and
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

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 stuck in a freshly dug trap
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.

14. Methods N Test Tubes

In a time where success is measured in stacks and chips,
Players rule the airwaves, only further driving the knife
Into the heart of broke motherfuckers like Weerd Science.
Our mission here at TSIAMCA 9TH PLANET is to study and observe.
We’ll report back with details as the mission moves forward.
Welcome to hell.

They’re here!

*Yeah yeah, unh, yeah.
What’s up everybody? Can I come in?
Why thank you, sure is good to see you here.
Aw, holy crap. Check it out.*

My life in general is just a joke.
Put it simple: cracka, broke.
Every one of these stupid fuckin’ lyrics I wrote
In my notebook with a gun to my head, that’s all folks.
Look, that’s all it took, easy as pie
American dream, take a slice, Americans lie
Americans die every day, American mothers askin’ American God why?
American lo-fi.
Gimme a high-five and it ain’t easy to make change so I don’t try
Home ain’t the same since I left so to death I
Gotta maintain the constant push.
I live inside the oustide
In through the out door I find I get by
Whatever works hurts but still with best time left
I spit with acid breath,
You motherfuckers best check who you laughin’ with,

Now me
I’m a little bit different than you,
Test tubes, methods that I was conceived through,
Peel off your one-time self
For better or worse, designed to hate, born to lose.
Me, I’m a little bit different than you,
Test tubes, methods that I was conceived through,
Peel off your one-time self
For better or worse, designed to hate, born to lose.

Now don’t expect any respect
Unless you willin’ to accept the simple fact you inept
You lack depth. Lyrics are rated from wacker to wackest
The black list, your whole record
Run and practice and hone your craft
‘Cause as far as I’m concerned you gon’ need skills to pass
You’re an asshole (asshole)
Pissin’ on your headphones, shittin’ on your ball
Grab your mic, come on let’s go
I battle to rattle your nerves
And shatter your fuckin’ skull
My mother told me not to make fun of the slow
But I can’t stop until I’m done
I can never escape the city I come from
See dumb-dumb someone once told me that I was sent here
To planet Earth to claim as my turf, stick a flag in the dirt
Just one of the many perks you can use
When you’re out of this world, now trouble stirs

Now when you flirt with the deconstruction
Your whole function’ll shut down
Endzone, touchdown, end game, game over, roll over, no more of you
Pistol holder should pull the pistol in who’s controllin’ you
Methods and lessons intertwine in my sentences
Lettin’ its ugly head rear behind with the messages
To all my successor’s successes, it cuts like scissors
For all the greaters and lessers I wish you all best wishes
Computer glitches and stitches for shit about money and bitches
Hugs and kisses from rapper’s mommas who all gonna miss ’em
Listen, the dead have risen, this cataclysm
Is cataclysmic, apocolyptic, cryptic
The way I grab a mic and rip it and stick it
Right up your septic and let it fuckin’ fester
And eat away at your heartbeat and never regret it
I been cornfed and born and bread for the revolution ahead
And I won’t stop ’til I’m dead, motha–

*We lose the mission… we lose everything*

4 Responses to “Friends and Nervous Breakdowns (2005)”

kill youyr rapper?

john the baker said this on March 2, 2010 at 7:34 pm | Reply
where the lyrics to kill your rapper. is that a little inside jioke since the site is called kill your rapper? I want to learn that song haha. cant understand some of them pls get that for me haha

john the baker said this on March 2, 2010 at 7:38 pm | Reply
My face began to color a bit from embarrassment.
It doesn\’t bend, curl, or crack within a windstorm. We ask
a Hispanic family for spare change for food.

retry hack said this on November 11, 2014 at 2:23 pm | Reply
D’autre part, elles gonflent en absorbant de l’eau
et procurent ainsi à l’estomac la sensation d’être comblé.

Garrett said this on December 1, 2015 at 8:21 pm | Reply

Weerd Science | Kill Your Rapper