| Verse 1
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| You see I got the call Monday mornin'
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| I dunno sometime round 9 a.m.
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| I felt down and out, left for dead,
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| Lost without a friend
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| Now how you live with yourself
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| Child, I just don’t know
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| But as far as I’m concerned
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| I think ya really suck, you’re rotten and you really blow
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| Chorus
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| I hate your guts
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| I wish that you was dead
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| I hate your guts
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| You’re damn right that’s what I said
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| I hate your guts
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| And I wish that you was dead
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| I’d dig the hole myself
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| But I’d rather run ya over with my truck instead
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| Verse 2
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| Your first name should be ass
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| Your last name should be wipe
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| Believe me when I say this
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| See I’ve been shit on more than twice
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| Well it’s funny how it works
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| It all just seems to never end
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| Just when ya think ya had enough
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| They’ll bend ya over and fuck ya once again
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| Chorus
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| I hate your guts
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| I wishin' you was dead
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| I be a hating your guts
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| You’re damn right that’s what I said
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| I hate your guts
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| And I wish that you was dead
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| I’d dig the hole myself
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| But I’d rather run ya over with my truck instead
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| (Better start up that engine)
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| Middle 8
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| What’s mine is mine
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| What’s yours is mine
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| And that’s the way it’s gonna be
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| If ya got a problem with that ya little bastard
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| Don’t ya come round to me
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| Now I’ve been doin' this now
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| For quite a many day
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| I’ll rip off your nuts and
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| Shove them down your throat and
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| Head off on my merry way
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| Verse 3
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| Money-hungry and greedy
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| Child you’re just downright wrong
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| Ya pissed me off so many times
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| I just had to write this song
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| Everyone’s got their problems
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| And darling I know you sure got yours
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| But you make livin' child
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| Damn you make it seem like a back breakin' chore
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| Chorus
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| I hate your guts
|
| I wish that you was dead
|
| I hate your guts
|
| You don’t have to clean out your ears
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| You’re damn right that’s what I said
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| I hate your guts
|
| And I wish that you was dead
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| God I’d dig the hole myself
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| But I’d rather run ya over with my truck instead |