Blaze Ya Dead Homie EP

* send corrections to the typist<br><br>(Jamie Madrox talking)<br>Yo this is serious shit right here<br>Me and my boys, we don`t fuck around<br>You know what I`m sayin`?<br>So if you diss me, my mutha fuckin` people, or the niggas I roll with<br>You know what?<br>Y`all done fucked up<br>Here go the shittalkin`<br><br>(Monoxide Child)<br>You`s a bitch ass hoe<br>What you really know about killas for real though?<br>Stainin` my freek show, gang of lunatics<br>We the rebels for the dead<br>Fuckin` with us you`ll lose your mutha fuckin` head<br>And now ya talkin` to your bitch ass hoes even a little<br>Rather beat ya to shit, and pull the plug at the hospital<br>Callin` me this, callin` me that<br>Cause you`s a bitch ass nigga from the jump I wanna slap<br>With the old school beat down, 10 on 1<br>I don`t remember no fair fights where I`m from<br>Maniac and I`ma stand right where the bloodstain is at<br>Hopin` you come back, nigga fuck that<br>I`m the poster child of death<br>I`ma keep swingin` my axe till nuthin`s left<br>I ain`t havin` that so fuck you bitch<br>Tell your friends I`ma hater and I`m talkin` shit<br><br>(Blaze Ya Dead Homie)<br>Man I don`t give a fuck how many records you sell<br>Stories you tell, nigga check yourself<br>And fuck that bitch that you`re with too<br>When the shit go down, where the fuck your crew?<br>Probably at home bumpin` someone else<br>When the shit went down they told you fuck yourself<br>Now you cryin` inside little thug still frontin`<br>Thinkin` to yourself why the fuck you say something<br>Too many niggas wanna beat me up<br>Steal my shit, slap my bitch<br>I`m like fuck this<br>Now you know what it`s like<br>To deal with real killas that don`t play, everyday<br>Knockin` suckas out the box, who wanna get some?<br>Seven video channels for my victims<br>I ain`t havin` that fuck you bitch<br>Tell your friends I`ma hater and I`m talkin` shit<br><br>(Jamie Madrox)<br>We the things that go bump in the night<br>We ain`t got no love for you, you need to get some shit right<br>Bitch who you think you`re fuckin` with?<br>We keep this shit like a track meet, we be runnin` it<br>With the hatchet on the back<br>While other bitches suckin` sour tits for air time and similac<br>We say fuck that, matter of fact<br>You tainted our style bitch boy we want our shit back<br>Don`t get your head cracked you ain`t tough<br>And all them skills don`t mean shit when you get fucked up<br>So fuck your set, and fuck your crew<br>And fuck every mutha fucka around that down with you<br>And you ain`t puttin` nothin on the map<br>Except for all this bullshit commercialized mainstream rap<br>And I ain`t havin` that fuck you bitch<br>Tell your friends I`ma hater and I`m talkin` shit<br><br>(Shaggy 2 Dope)<br>Hoe ass hoes, we stomp those hoes<br>How the fuck you gonna step to Dark Carnival juggalos?<br>Creators of the wicked, night breeders<br>No little bitch faggots with blonde ?<br>So anytime you see me in public<br>You get a Faygo in your ass, and a jaw full of dick<br>You can keep your muthafuckin` TRL<br>I stay with my army in the underground and stay real<br>And burn down your little TV set<br>String Carson up with razor wire wrapped around his neck<br>Cause that`s how we do all day<br>Cross to the other side, bitch you couldnt pay me<br>We stay on the dark side of the carnival grounds<br>Twiztid, Blaze and two wicked clowns<br>Heads are finna get chopped off, and slit<br>Bout to take it way beyond talkin` shit<br><br>(Violent J)<br>Hatchet don`t count, hatchet ain`t included<br>Knowin` goddamn well we the champs undisputed<br>We don`t need your radios and MTV<br>Sellin` million, sayin` what the fuck we please<br>? who`s coat you ridin` on?<br>You gotta lick balls, and write him a song<br>You got his dick buried so far up your ass<br>It`s hangin` out your mouth, but you like that<br>And ? tried to warn ya<br>And there you are receiving the dick in California