Lordz Of Brooklyn - White Trash (Korn remix) lyrics

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Lordz Of Brooklyn - White Trash (Korn remix) lyrics

(Verse One: performed by ADMoney) Listen up here's a tale about a white kid That had to make some cash Dropped out of school ain't never went to cla** Sold a little gra**, robbed a couple cars Had a name around the neighborhood for fightin' in the bars Had a chip on his shoulder He's a chip off the block When he drinks, he drinks alone Grabbed the whiskey took a swig Heard the fiddle didn't jig Cause he's watchin' everybody round him blowin' up gettin' big So he picks out a ride, slim jims the door Now he's runnin' red lights and beatin' stop signs Cops are on his a** and he's runnin' out of time So he hits the chop shop, makes drop, cause he's sick of bein' poor He's white trash and he's knockin' on your door (Pre Chorus) Somebody's knockin' at my door, somebody's ringin' my bell (Chorus) I'm white trash and I'm knockin' on your door White Trash and I'm knockin' on your door White Trash and I'm knockin' on your door I know you hear me knockin' so what you hidin' for (Verse Two: performed by ADMoney) He ain't never joined the, he ain't no altar boy He's an angel with a dirty face like Pretty Boy Floyd He's the kind a kid sittin' in the park if you wanna cop a lid And if he got popped he wouldn't rat he do the bid Cause he's tuff like rugby down right ugly If you owe him money you'll be black and blue and bloody From his tenement slum right down to the gutter He might run a number, sell some iron to the brothers Cause the cops beat him down and it doesn't make the news But to him that's payin' dues when you're walkin' in his shoes (Pre Chorus) (Chorus) (Verse Three: performed by ADMoney) It's just another night in the old gin mill He got a pocket of old dirty dollar bills He buys his boys a round, they toast it up, they shoot it down They're gettin' stared at by some off duty cops sittin' down So what you lookin' at you wanna catch a smack He finishes his beer and his boys take his back And they mix it up, they're brawlin' on the ground The cop pulls his pistol and fires off a round Yo he should of got a job, should of went to cla** Now he's layin' all alone, still poor white trash (Pre Chorus) (Chorus)