The Sitcom Really Really Isn’t All That Real lyrics

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 di*khead
God handed out sticks and gave me the sh*t-end
Ridden with hoes, no kiddin' like one's spittin'
Got two right on my neck, three blister and on my di*k-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 sh*tface?
Golly f*ck, 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 b*tches who all want me to die
Waitin' for some rappers to die so maybe I can get a chance
Without a song about makin' b*tches dance
I hope all the clubs close
'Cause so many as*h*les 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