. . .
|
|
[Jimmy Pop:] Eminem's gotta cuss in his raps to sell records, well me too, so
fuck Will Smith!
[DJ Q-Ball:] That don't rhyme.
[Jimmy Pop:] Drats.
. . .
|
|
Potent is the flow which is wicked sick
So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick
Potent is the flow which is wicked sick
So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick
I don't give a shit about celebrity
But motherfuckers did ya happen to who's here? me
The bottom feeder at the top of the food chain
Frontin' from the back of the line on some dud named
After car parts that as fast as a spark hitting gas
Starts a fire gets wired from barbs that
Cut like a jalapeno popper fart
Burnin up an asshole that once riped apart
Punched hard but it ain't like i ever cared if i went
Too far as stitches left scars from more clowns bent
Outta shape than the cirque de soleil ever had so
Though he throws his weight around he's still in my shadow
In the dark so he doesn't know his girl remarked that i make her
Laugh on the inside but i can hear it later
With my dick as her other cunt gets screwed
In the process i got to get hot chicks nude
The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's
Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches
The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's
Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches
Balls out my life is a slut
This dick don't hit the bottom but i fuck the sides up
Balls out my life is a slut
This dick don't hit the bottom but i fuck the sides up
Potent is the flow which is wicked sick
So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick
Potent is the flow which is wicked sick
So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick
Thanks to you bitches i got more screams
Than david arquette's resume what that means
Is my job involves getting' mobbed like john gotti
Dressed to kill like i'm gianni versace
But i gotta be so when a gimp limps back for more
In a huff like that fat kid that had to sit out for
Every gym class due to his asthma that wore
One correctional shoe but still passed that i swore
I spotted at the smorgasbord sprintin' for seconds
That i reckon ain't as sloppy as the leftovers gettin'
Me clocked by blocked cock pissed my tryst with his missus
Got her panties in a bunch just like his is
That my face between her legs? because that could be
What convinced this dick getting' hard i'm a pussy
But if that were my name i would have autographed her breasts with
Motherfuckin' dollar signs instead of s's
The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's
Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches
The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's
Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches
Balls out my life is a slut
This dick don't hit the bottom but i fuck the sides up
Balls out my life is a slut
This dick don't hit the bottom but i fuck the sides up
Balls out my life is a slut
This dick don't hit the bottom but i fuck the sides up
Balls out my life is a slut
This dick don't hit the bottom but i fuck the sides up
Balls out my life is a slut
This dick don't hit the bottom but i fuck the sides up
Balls out my life is a slut
. . .
|
|
Vulcanize the whoopee stick
In the ham wallet
Cattle prod the oyster ditch
With the lap rocket
Batter dip the cranny ax
In the gut locker
Retrofit the pudding hatch
Ooh la la
With the boink swatter
If i get you in the loop when I make a point to be straight with you then
In lieu of the innuendo in the end know my intent though
I brazillian wax poetic so pathetically
I don't wanna beat around the bush
Foxtrot Unifrom Charlie Kilo
Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo
Marinate the nether rod
In the squish mitten
Power drill the yippee bog
With the dude piston
Pressure wash the quiver bone
In the bitch wrinkle
Cannonball the fiddle cove
Ooh la la
With the pork steeple
If i get you in the loop when I make a point to be straight with you then
In lieu of the innuendo in the end know my intent though
I brazilian wax poetic so pathetically
I don't wanna beat around the bush
Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo
Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo
Put the you know what in the you know where
Put the you know what in the you know where
Put the you know what in the you know where
. . .
|
|
It always sucks refolding the kind of map
Needed when i get stuck where the sun don't shine the fact
Is if i just shut up my rubbered stamp could flag you as dumb
It ain't your mind you're givin' me a piece of
As it don't take einstein to know that's just obscene but
It's been buck rogers' time since i hit other than rock bottom
Even the odds of having you against me
With your crotchless jihad on blue balls evidently
Are all mighty good god so angel dust my soul like james brown
Street leagl whore hauling so much stunning ass
Sell yourself short like bridget at the bunny ranch
Do it all fours the satisfaction of getting fouled
I'm the least you could do
If only life were as easy as you
I'm the least you could do
If only life were as easy as you
I would still get screwed
I don't care if getting under someone that's
Beneath you fits the m.o. of conundrum as
You reckoned this was just a fancy word for rubbers
I aim to get a bang out of working your
Weak spot that sets the bar so low just nerve can score
With no respect since oddly danger feels like pay dirt
I'm the least you could do
If only life were as easy as you
I'm the least you could do
If only life were as easy as you
I'm the least you could do
If only life were as easy as you
If only
When my fumbling breaks you should
I thank your dad for the damaged goods?
When my fumbling breaks you should
I thank your dad for the damaged goods?
When my fumbling breaks you should
I thank your dad for the damaged goods?
When my fumbling breaks you should
. . .
|
|
I know you're gonna play when you get wind
I heard you're full of shit so i've been duped again
But if you cover your ass with the same old song
You might as well be farting farting with a walkman on
I know you're gonna play when you get wind
I heard you're full of shit so i've been duped again
But if you cover your ass with the same old song
You might as well be farting farting with a walkman on
I know you're gonna play when you get wind
I heard you're full of shit so i've been duped again
But if you cover your ass with the same old song
You might as well be farting farting with a walkman on
Give me a fuckin' break
Farting with a walkman on
Farting with a walkman on
Farting with a walkman on
. . .
|
|
(On the phone)
I'm in the bathroom right now, so this message might sound like shit.
(Shit's a bunch of times)
. . .
|
|
I'm going to africa yes ma'am i'm a brick waas president licoln okay? mitten
There's a dog in the vent chicken necks? i pick ken griffey jr. i fell out 2
times
I'm pedaling backwards this snowflake tastes like fish sticks we're a totem pole
dying tickles
I hear a frankenstein lives there she's touching my special area go banana
Ralphie ralphie
Get off get off
The stage the stage
Sweetheart sweetheart
Oh say can you rock?
I'm a pop sensation
I'm a pop sensation
Salmon gutter?
I'm idaho you smell like dead bunnies that's where i saw the leprechaun fun toys
are fun
Chocolate microscopes you're not it that is so 1991 i bit my tongue
Ralphie ralphie
Get off get off
The stage the stage
Sweetheart sweetheart
Oh say can you rock?
I'm a pop sensation
I'm a pop sensation
Yvan eht nioj
Yvan eht nioj
Yvan eht nioj
Yvan eht nioj
Yvan eht nioj
Yvan eht nioj
Yvan eht nioj
Yvan eht nioj
. . .
|
|
Eventide rise for ritual
With the thrill of a kill vengefully the engine will
Roar forth steer the dead leave forced
Driven by fear shift gears veer towards
The foolishly equipped swift these
Failed bids breathed taillights from the crypt
Reflect upon the way beyond redemption
Let the necronometer beckon for the destined
Blessed when first lent sin then condemned to bear the burden
Of this curse the consequence of which can never be averted
Each tormented attempt that is made in vain
To evade this debt which is certain to be paid
Without question is met with a counterclocked surge
In reverse as if backmasked words of the black mass were
All heard by a clutch engaged
Over trails blazed to the western gates
Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides
Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides
Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides
Hell burns by angel turns her pillow to the cooler side
Something diabolical
Idle hands are bound for the
Damned once sam went down to georgia
Speed was forged of the divine salt
Mined from the vaults of flame by the lost
Named as those sought as faults rests beneath
The wrong that was spawned from the tired screech
Of essence halted engulfed in the scent of exhaustion
A false witness with the sensed end is brought
To bended knees when abandoned belief in
The mephistophelian plea for wicked unleashed sends
Heed to reap grim an infernally decreed
Reposession vested in the fallen creed called on to retrieve
Meed with the fueled intention of deprived intervention
The thundered calm that comes from the rattle of descension
Numbs the panicked from a havoc that reeks of oil
Barreling down this mortal coil
Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides
Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides
Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides
Hell burns by angel turns her pillow to the cooler side
Something diabolical
Tonight belongs to him
Tonight belongs to him
Tonight belongs to him
Tonight belongs to him
To him
To him
. . .
|
|
. . .
|
|
We are "cop rock" we are screech
We are z. cavaricci
We are laser removed
Tasmanian devil tattoos
We are third string we are puck
We are special people's club
We are the half shirts with
Irreverent spring break top ten lists
We are munsoned we are squat
We are flashing twelve o'clock
We are spread out butt cheeks
Pulled apart so just the air leaks
We are "ishtar" we are tab
We are no right turn on red
We are the moustaches
The beatles grew when they dropped acid
You are the heart dotting "i"
In the word "apologize"
Scribbled drunk on a postcard
Sent from somewhere volcanoes are
I am the heart with no name
Airbrushed on the license plate
Of a subaru that was
Registered in pennsylvania
We are zima we are barf
We are cinderblock yard art
We are baldwin brothers
Not the good one but the others
We are amway we are shemp
We are sir david of brent
We are the queef after
A porn star breaks the gang bang record
You are the heart dotting "i"
In the word "apologize"
Scribbled drunk on a postcard
Sent from somewhere volcanoes are
I am the heart with no name
Airbrushed on the license plate
Of a subaru that was
Registered in pennsylvania
Do you even know what a wawa is girl?
Do you even know what a wawa is?
Do you even know what a wawa is girl?
Do you even know what a wawa is?
. . .
|
|
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby
Dog will hunt i'm the front end loader travoltin' over so try my slam on for
size
Drive stick with that kubg-fu grip let the banana split and watch it go right to
your thighs
Cop a feel copperfield style abracadabra that bra do you think i can pull it
off?
Wanna bang around? just jot me down on your to-do list under "put out like a
fire" 'cause
I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this
All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this
All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby
Edible strange how do i get in your pants when you're tick tockin' them
Serious levis? so tight can't be classified that's why i'm here to fill that
opening
Make a seasoned pass to mount that ass and bob hope that i might one night stand
a chance
Let's go feng shui the fuck around my digs like a superball bring that sunny
side up and
I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this
All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this
All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this
All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this
All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss
. . .
|
|
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday anymore
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday anymore
Maybe you got screwed but i dumped you 'cause you ain't nothin' but trash
I put out despite the fact that you're like a hawaiian punch moustache
Right under my nose thinking i'm so colonel klink oblivious
But how could i nazi? you got off scot-free 'cause i know this means it
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday anymore
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday anymore
If i want to be repeatedly shit on i'll go make dutch porn
When roughly translated even your naked truth means squat and what's more
I'm missing you like a hijacked flight on september 11th
I don't know who got on you but i'm not wrong in thanking them since it
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday anymore
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday anymore
Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again
Ya know i wouldn't give a fuck
When what i shoulda got is over ya sooner so now
I'm just gonna wrap it up
Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again
Ya know i wouldn't give a fuck
When what i shoulda got is over ya sooner so now
I'm just gonna wrap it up
Ain't my job
I'm just gonna wrap it up
To fuck you on your birthday
I'm just gonna wrap it up
Ain't my job
I'm just gonna wrap it up
To fuck you on your birthday anymore
I'm just gonna wrap it up
Ain't my job
I'm just gonna wrap it up
To fuck you on your birthday
I'm just gonna wrap it up
Ain't my job
I'm just gonna wrap it up
To fuck you on your birthday anymore
. . .
|