Оригинален текст
(Violent J)
Chillin' at the studio...
Chillin at the studio, 85 bucks an hour so hurry up and loop a
beat Mike. Come on!
(Music starts)
Uh, Uh, Uh
I'm Violent J but my homies call me
But that's my homies, to you I'm Violent J b*tch
I put my boys on a track even though they suck
(Dave)
Yo dawg, I'm Dave and I don't give a fk
(Violent J)
I did a record deal, I signed a contract
Technically, for Island I can only rap
Well fk that, with Twiztid I'ma still spit
Even though I got a cold and I sound like s**t
What the fk was that? fck it, leave it in, that s**t is phat
You heard this beat eighty times I'ma still freak it
And if you notice, my s**t don't even rhyme...
Look at that. I ain't even got a rap and it's still phat
My s**t went gold, I got fat nuts
And you're still flyer'in parking lots
You might say my vocals are up too loud
So I'ma turn 'em up louder to pi*s you off!
Psycopathic records are geniuses, get off our penises
Here comes the chorus, but I got no hook
Instead I'll just fk with the phone book
(Music cuts. Phone rings, a guy picks up)
Hello?
(Slim an*s)
Yeah uh, Harry Sacks Please?
(Guy)
Who is this?
(Slim an*s)
Uh Harry, hey this is Slim an*s down at the cannery,
uh, d*ck Shooter left a bulletin, something about, uh,
you filling in his slot tonight down at the, uh, garage.
We got a casement of fudge. We need as many packers as we
can get, uh uh Sacks.
(Guy)
...Hello?
(Music Starts)
Uh Uh
(Jamie Maddrox)
My name is Jamie Maddrox and I got fat balls
I'm always urinating in the motel halls
I got a big head that never fits a hat
So you ain't see me wearing a d*mn thing green b*tch
I'm far from rich, I gotta hoopty
With a smash in the fender, and in the back too
I gotta a broken tail light and I'll smash you
b*tch, get outta my way. We got clown love
Fat props to the lyrical Tom Dub
(Monoxide Child)
It's the M-O-N-O, and I can't even spell the rest
It takes too long and I need a fkin' cigarette
I can't hear, my right ear's mad wack
So shut the fk up and listen or get an as* kickin'
I slap hoes and call them girls to thier face
And scream "Now fk off b*tch, Twiztid in the place"
So back up, recognize and check nuts
'Cause simply my dear, I don't give a fk!
(Music cuts. Phone rings, a guy picks up)
????????
(Mo' Childs...Monoxide Child)
Yo, this is Mo' Childs in this piece, what's up son?
(Guy)
Hello?
(Mo' Childs)
Yeah, what's up son? I'm lookin' fo this deal,
you know what I'm sayin'? I
got raps to bust fo y'all. Y'all ready fo Mo' Childs?
I'm 'bout to kick this flow, y'all ready fo this s**t or what?
(Guy)
Who's this?
(Mo' Childs
Wassup son. I'm Mo' Childs, I'm straight from the hood.
I got all my peoples on 1-800 Crenshaw. We comin' hard.
(Music Starts)
Bring it, bring it, bring it
(sh*ggy 2 Dope)
My names 2 Dope, and sometimes sh*ggy
Sometimes sh*gs, and sometimes Guid(guido)
I get mad stupid, I gets mad ill
Locked down in all five, fk it, I do this still
Stretch my nuts back like a slingshot and plant 'em in your mouth
Shake my hips like Elvis, wiggling my pelvis
Last kid that stepped,
I applied a Camel Clutch and stretched his back like
motherfkin' bungee jump
WAAAAAAH!
(Music Cuts to Violent J)
I'm Violent J back to make you smile more
I let my n*tsack drag on the tile floor
I kick free styles, for miles
My gold comes in piles, I worked on Bell Isle...
I picked up deer s**t, and now I spit raps...
I snap your neck...
'Cause my freestyles are fresh...
(Door Opens, closes)