キー: D minor•
Verse 1
A beer here, beer there,
and a couple of shots
Finally you find a venue
worth starting a tab at
Ladies are looking badass
then hit the men's room
When you see a woman
you think wants to befriend you
You approach,
but she's got a boyfriend
Who's standing right behind her
she tells you you're a mess
So you not -so -accidentally
spill the drink on her dress
The scuffle ensues,
about to diffuse into conflict
Do you know a boyfriend's
it's the furthest thing from your mind
You look down at your watch
and it's about that time
wondering where you parked your ride
But there's someone
waiting for you outside
man, you don't cross the line
You're at the point of no returning now
Fact is, you probably deserve it
You gon' get your ass whooped
G
Dm
You're a white child of privilege
at one of those places
Where the culture's diverse
and there's plenty of dark faces
And that's cool because,
hey, you're not a racist
In fact, you hang with blacks
on a regular basis
Gm
Dm
You get comfortable and start to chatter
And drop a few N -bombs
like it really doesn't matter
But out of your mouth it sounds
like a slave master
And unbeknownst to you,
your transgression
And get up in your face,
a sure sign of aggression
You try to play dumb
and wiggle out on your own
But these cats aren't 100 %
will tell them that you're down
But you look all around
back on your heels
Then a special delivery arrives
D
Dm
you've come across the line
Rolled a check payable by your behind
You're at the point of no returning now
You don't get your ass kicked
You can beg and plead,
but it ain't worth it
Fact is, you probably deserve it
Bought your girl a knuckle
-up homeboy because
You don't get your ass home
G
Dm
You had a rough day at work,
some bullshit your boss did
Bitter little Jew in front
of the whole office
Suffice to say you ain't feelin'
like a winner
And all you wanna do is get home
Ten mile backup, fuckin' beautiful
You're finally there
but there's no one in the kitchen
Your wife's on the phone,
that she just got home
But you ain't tryin' to hear that shit,
you're in the zone
She starts cookin',
you're still lettin' her have it
And this ain't the first
time
And she starts to cry
Tells you to go to hell,
who's the man of the house
That's when a frying pan
catches you right in the mouth
you done crossed the line
payable by your behind
You can beg and plead,
boy, because
Dm
Dm
You don't eat your ass, boy
You
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