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Fred: What's up with this fucking ball-tongue shit?
Jon: All I needed was a pepsi..
Fred: You better shut the fuck up punk!
Jon: Whatever nigga...say what, say what...
My dick is bigger than yours...My amp is bigger than yours...
Fred: Too bad I got your beans in my bag,
Stuck-up sucker, KoRny mutherfucker.
Taking over flows is the limp-pimp,
Need the bizkit to save this group from Jon Davis.
I'm gonna drop a little east side skill,
Ya best step back cuz I'm a kill, I'm a kill.
So watcha thinking Mr. Raggedy man?
Doin all you can to look like Raggedy Anne.
Jon: I'll check you out punk, yes I know you feel it.
You look like one of those dancers from the Hanson video,
You little faggot ho.
Please give me some shit to work with,
Cuz right now I'm all it kid,
Suck my dick kid, like your daddy did.
Fred: Who the fuck you think you're talking to
Fred: I'm known for eating little whiny chumps like you.
Fred: All up in my face with that:
Jon: Are you ready?!?
Fred: But halitosis, is all you're rocking steady.
You little fairy, smelling all your flowers.
Nappy hairy chest, look it's Austin Powers.
Jon: Ah yeah baby!
Fred: I hear ya tootin on them fag-pipes lad,
But you said it best, There's No Place to Hide.
Chorus: Jon: What the fuck you saying,
You're a pimp whatever, limp dick.
Fred Durst needs to rehearse, needs to reverse what he's saying.
Wannabe funkdoobiest when you're playing.
Rippin off a band counterfeit fakin.
Plus your bills I'm paying,
You can't eat that shit every day Fred.
Lay off the bacon.
Fred: You better watch your fucking mouth Jon.
So you hate me...
Fred: And I hate you...
Jon: You know what, you know what...It's all in the family...
Jon: Look at you fool, I'm gonna fuck you up twice,
Throwin rhymes at me like, oh shit, Vanilla Ice..
Ya better run run while ya can,
You'll never fuck me up Bisc Limpkit.
At least I've got a phat, original band.
Fred: Who's hot, who's not?
Fred: You best step back, KoRn on the cob,
You need a new job.
Time to take the mic skills,
Back to the dentist,
And buy yourself a new grill.
You're pumpkin pie,
I'll jack-off in your eye.
Climbing shoots and ladders,
While your ego shatters.
But you just can't get away.
Jon: Get a gay??
Fred: Cuz it's doomsday kid, it's doomsday.
Fred: You call yourself a singer,
You're more like Jerry Springer
Your favorite band is winger.
Fred: and all you eat is Zingers.
You're like a fruity pebble,
Your favorite flag is Rebel
Jon: Yeehaa (Hillbilly Impression)
Fred: It's just to bad that you're a fag,
And on a lower level.
Jon: So you're from Jacksonville.
Kickin' it like Buffalo Bill.
Gettin butt-fucked by your uncle Chuck,
While your sister's on her knees
Waiting for your fucking nut.
Fred: Where d'ya get that little dance,
Is that from the idiots in Waco,
You're burning up in Bako,
Where your father had your mother,
Your mother had your brother,
It's just too bad your father's mad,
Your mother's now your lover.
Jon: Come on Hillbilly.
Can your horse do a fucking wheelie?
You love it down south, and boy...
You've sure do got a purdy (pretty) mouth...
Jon: and I love you...
Fred: and I want you...
Jon: and I'll suck you...
Fred: and I'll fuck you...
Jon: and I'll butt-fuck you...
Fred: and I'll eat you...
Jon: and I'll lick your little dick...muther fucker
Fred: Say what?? Say what?? Say what??
(przeczytano 2 405 razy)