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The real problem Lyrics by Bodycount
The real problem by Bodycount
Yo Moose, stop the car right here.
Alright, give it here, give it here.
No man let me do it, cool ice.
Stay in the car man, stay in the car. Stay in the car.
Uh, hi officers, um, we had a flat tire back there.
Do you think you guys could help us out?
"Naw, that's not my job. My job's not to help your f**kin' ass out."
I mean, um, you know I don't have any other way to get home.
"That's not my job, a**hole."
Well uh, could you tell me what your job is?
"Right now my job is eatin' these doughnuts, or maybe...
hey, wait a minute. Aren't you--"