| Shit, motherfuckin' hound dogs, what?
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| Swingin' from my balls so hard
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| It’s like I got a third nut and look
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| I don’t care who you know, bitch
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| Lookin' fine, get the fuck back to the end of the line
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| Like the hoe said, «You's my cousin like my mamma
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| And your mamma are sisters or something»
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| Oh yeah, we down, go ahead, let 'em in blah nuckle
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| Hammers to the chin, be down with me and I’ll be down back
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| Put my dick in your mouth, you’re gonna hear your neck snap
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| In fact, hoe, fuck out my bus
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| Ask questions like a mute but they down to front
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| You see 'em, come, you see, go, you see 'em come again
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| From my dick to Twiztids dick and then me
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| To Violent J’s dick then Blazes dick
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| Try to grope us with their balls, goddamn hound dogs
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| Bow wow wow, yippy yo yippy yay
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| Hound dogs ain’t got shit to say
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| Bow wow wow, yippy yo yippy yay
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| Give a dog a bone, give a dog a bone
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| Give a dog a bone, give a dog a bone
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| What’s the whole meanin' of a hound dog?
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| What butt sniffin', dick lickin', all kinda role, y’all
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| I’m in a club, smokin on a Square
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| Step on out to get a little fresh air but I can’t do that
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| I get attacked like a cardiac
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| People runnin' side to back like sianak
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| Ain’t nothin' wrong with givin' me props
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| But actin' like the punk ass cop swingin' off my nuts
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| Gotta stop walk around spreadin' rumors like you know
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| 'Cuz you heard me tell a hoe after a show
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| Only I don’t play that shit one bit
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| Fuck around and get your head cut off right quick
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| Psychopathic bitch boy meet the axe
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| Specializin' splittin' hound dogs backs
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| Plottin' against the whole world of facts
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| So get off my dick and I’m out like that, alright
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| Y’all wait, come here, oh my god, you don’t remember me?
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| Nah, I had a crush on you for like 9 years
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| I don’t know you, fat bitch, it’s me
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| Jenny, I sat behind you in Ms. Crawberry’s chemistry class
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| Bitch, I ain’t even go to school
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| No, I’m saying if you were to sit there it would’ve been the shit
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| You think you could sign my shirt?
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| He-he-he-he-he
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| Yeah, I remember school, hoes back then like 'Joe Bruce-eeww'
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| Years passed by and look I’m a start, now all them hoes like 'Joe Bruce-ahh'
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| I’m still that nerdy ass voodoo nut, now I got hound dogs sniffin' my butt
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| I could have a worm hangin out of my dick hole
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| And they’d be like, «Well, I think it’s cute though»
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| Missed me with all that, I ain’t changed any
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| Look at me, I make Big Pun look skinny
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| I’m ugly as fuck, resemblin' a cling-on
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| Hoes still let me give my ding-a-ling a swing on
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| What’s up with these pop kids buyin' my shit, Mainstream?
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| Groupies, get off my dick, I wanna see real juggalos at shows
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| Fuck these backstreet richies fake hoes
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| Bow wow wow, yippy yo yippy yay
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| Hound dogs ain’t got shit to say
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| Bow wow wow, yippy yo yippy yay
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| Give a dog a bone, give a dog a bone
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| Give a dog a bone, give a dog a bone
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| You don’t even know who the fuck I am
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| That bitch’s like «Who's his friend»
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| Goddamn, my lips is crusty, my feet is musty
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| Lift up my nuts and my itch is dusty
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| I ain’t had pussy in eleven years
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| I been dead, ain’t nobody sheadin' tears
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| Look, bitch, I don’t give a fuck about fame
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| Glock cocked 'cuz you bitches
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| 'Cuz I’m married to the game
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| Ain’t no shame for the shit I speak
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| Slap hound dog bitches in the face for weeks
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| Freak, I see you hatin' on my Raiders cap
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| When back in the day you was all about
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| That shot that ass out back in '89
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| Berry wearin' lopes and is clocked for mine
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| Rose from the dead with the lotus clique
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| My gun played out and I ain’t changin' shit
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| Hey, aren’t you Monoxide Child? |
| That’s right, bitch
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| Right the skinny one, my best friend John’s supposed to be cousins
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| With you or somethin', Who?
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| So like I figured if you give me your phone number
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| I could give it to him and maybe
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| We all could hang out or something, whatever
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| Oh my god, it’s Blaze, hey, dead homie, you’s a hound dog, bitch
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| Allow me, smack your face riding on my dick
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| How my nuts taste? |
| Every place that I go
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| Somebody want a photograph or an autograph
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| Can I get a tap, how did y’all get started
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| Your shit is really tight and what be motivatin' y’all
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| To grab a pen and write, listen here |
| Bitch, I’m a killer in disguise, Twiztid, motherfucker
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| With the milk white eyes I despise
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| While you try to perpetrate like a juggalo
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| But you ain’t down, motherfucker, you’s a jugga-hoe
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| Hey, hoe, you’re afraid of the facts
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| Never packin' a gat and always seen with an axe
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| Take another picture and I’ll break your jaw
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| I got an 80 pound punch for each and all of y’all
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| Motherfucker with that bitch ass hound dog face
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| My ass cracks exposed, go ahead and get a taste
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| Bow wow wow, yippy yo yippy yay
|
| Hound dogs ain’t got shit to say
|
| Bow wow wow, yippy yo yippy yay
|
| Give a dog a bone, give a dog a bone
|
| Give a dog a bone, give a dog a bone
|
| Give a dog a bone, give a dog a bone
|
| Give a dog a bone, give a dog a bone
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| It be the same hound dogs in different cities
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| Starin' at me like I’m a set of titties
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| Autographin' t-shirts, hats and socks
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| And this bitch don’t even know riddle box
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| Real juggalo’s don’t want no picture
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| They just walk up like, «What up, ninja?»
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| After that they give a fuck where I’m headin'
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| Their like fuck him, we’re lookin' for neden
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| And I don’t need any more free tattoos
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| Got my arms lookin' like Motley Crues
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| I could be talkin' to the finest bitch in the land
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| And you’d run up like, «Hey, what up, man?»
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| That’s when I slap you right on the spot
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| And have Billy Bill beat ya down in the parkin' lot
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| Do I think I’m better 'cuz neden comes easy?
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| For sheezy bitch, bottom line, y’all get off our balls
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| Psychopathic out like Biggy Smalls |