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Artiste:
Hanson Brothers
Titre:
Brad
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I was home watching the hockey game The score was five to one, L.A. against the Flames I heard footsteps, on the second floor I knew it was Brad, and, boy, was I fuckin' sore I went flying up the stairs, My room was in a shambles, my stuff was everywhere Brad cowered in the corner, his lip curled in a sneer "I'll fix you" I said, "You little puke, get out of here!" "Brad, no! Brad, leave it alone! Not my hockey cards Put them down, asshole! Brad, no! Brad, leave that alone! Not my Gameboy! No! No!" Mom comes running in, she says, "Dwayne, now don't you hit him!" Brad starts to smirk so I kicked him, the little jerk, I said "I hate you! You dick! I hate you! You dick! You're not my little brother! You're just a little prick!" I tried to kick him in the teeth, Mom said I was grounded for a week I said "Please, Mom, please - Why is it always me? I'm not the one that's bad! I'm not the one that's bad! It's Brad, you old cow! Don't you see? It's Brad!" "Brad, no! Brad, leave it alone! Not my swimsuit issue! Put that back under the pillow! Brad no! Leave my smokes alone! Steal dad's, or go buy your own!" He went into my sister's room, across the hall He said, "Dwayne's having a bird. You wanna play with the Barbie Dolls?" I heard them laughing, they were laughing at me! I heard Brad say "That Dwayne, he's such a dweeb" "Brad, no! Wait till I get you alone! You're gonna die, man! You'll wish you'd never been born! Brad, you fuck! Just wait, you little shmuck! You're not getting away! No! No!" I'm seriously considering getting my goalie stick and beating his fuckin' head in