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)
Chad (drums)
Ike (vocals)
Terry (vocals)
Dale (vocals)
murphy brock (vocals)
Bob (vocals)
Johnny "guitar" (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)
go ta tia-juana now!
(I have it)
He should go to 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 reproducin' yoseff 'n evvythang. done found some housin' in a one-dimensional cardbode
Vity box on some italian's funt lawn...bunch o' crab-grass underneath de offspring fo quick 'n easy sanitatium...shit! y'all provvly be savin' up fo yo lava lamp putty soon!

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

Well, if de be told, it were 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 God has ways of punishing naughty 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 gwine change no diapers! y'said was incredibly happy! enj
While y'got it, boy! de shit hit de fan in a minute!

What? something bad is to happen?

You figgit out...judgin' fum de intellectional on yo' beloved's ignint 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 coat de mall somewheres!

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

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

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

Leave de ugly baby in de crab-grass, snatch up yo' wretched excuse fo a woman, 'n on up de heap! get yo'seff 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 piss all de adulterated wimp you gwine become, an' get de shit rollin' agin'!