Luyện nghe bài hát The White Boy Troubles

Frank (guitar, synclavier)
vai (guitar)
Ray (guitar, vocals)
mars (keyboards)
Chuck (piano)
barrow (bass)
Scott (bass)
Jay (string bass)
Ed (percussion)
wackerman (drums)
Ike (vocals)
bozzio (vocals)
Dale (vocals)
Napoleon murphy (vocals)
Bob (vocals)
"guitar" watson (vocals)

(singing)
De boy troubles!
(white boy troubles!)
De boy troubles!
(boy got troubles!)
Oh a boidennn!
(oh, boidennn!)
His car's up!
De boy got a provlem!
She ripped up de
(wit de red on)
dat o-zo-mobile!
(tell me I say)
Hafta go ta now!
(I don't it)
He go to brown moses,
Way in egyppp-lainnn!
(egyppp-lainnn)

(checking off a clipboard, like a social worker)
Looks likes y'done putty good heahh, harry-as-a-boy! I sees ya' growin' up like a weed, axmodently yoseff 'n evvythang. done found some low-rent housin' in a one-dimensional cardbode
Vity box on some italian's lawn...bunch o' crab-grass underneath de offspring fo quick 'n easy sanitatium...shit! y'all provvly be savin' up fo yo first lava lamp putty soon!

We're incredibly happy! even though I'm gay for business purposes, my relationship with artificial rhonda has blossomed into something really beautiful, although I confess to being baffled
W she got up.

Well, if de trufe be told, it de father o' de boy at de gas statium...when y'sent de ol' lady in fo' de inner-tube patchin', 'round de foth o' july.

Quentin? how could he be so unfaithful? I'm sure God has ways of punishing little guys like that!

Mights well stop complainin', boy! de damage been done! leastways y'all can pretend to be some kinda daddy! yo' rubber bitch ain't change no diapers! y'said y'all was incredibly happy! enj
While y'got it, boy! de shit hit de fan in a minute!

What? bad is going to happen?

You figgit out...judgin' fum de intellectional expressium on yo' beloved's face, de bitch gwine be contemplatin' a career of her own! see dat?

Look like she got her one good eye on a briefcase 'n a tweed spo't down de mall somewheres!

Durin' de intromissium, few de sisters seen her 'tendin' a consciousness meetin' over at de hiltum! thass right! bitch passed up de mash potatoes 'n took off wit' de high school cafeteri
Ch.

Francesco the door, and stands on the porch, still watching through the binoculars.

(contd.)
Makin' matters woise, de italian dat be ownin' yo' nativity bungalow been wondrin' de hanky an' de panky 'tween you 'n dem two concrete flamingos ovuh by de steps! you been messin' wit de
E bird o' new jersey, muthafucker! dat kin git you to life in dis vicinity! if you wants a little frennly advice, boy, I'd be growin' my ass up a little quicker, 'n whizz on outa heahh!

Leave de ugly baby in de crab-grass, snatch up yo' wretched excuse fo a woman, 'n climb on up de heap! get a job drivin' a truck fulla string-beans to utah! make sumfin' out y'seff, so's
N afode a ticket to de mammy nun show! den we can all ovuh de adulterated wimp you gwine become, an' get de shit rollin' agin'!