| I dont give a fuck, right!
|
| Dead face with the eyes white
|
| Intimidate you with my eyesight
|
| Im trying to hide from the average
|
| Everyday we startin static
|
| Livin with the maggots
|
| Masters of the black magic
|
| My shits for killas with the twiztid tats on they backs
|
| My shits for killas who walk around with the ax
|
| My shits for killas screamin I would rather die
|
| Then see you motha fuckas doin MTV live
|
| You can keep the mainstream life and all the ho’s
|
| I’m steady cussin in video’s
|
| For Juggalos
|
| I’m underground where the dead don’t sleep
|
| Keep us a secret to the world and watch the posse increase
|
| So if you feel me why don’t you bury me alive?
|
| Bury me Alive (Bury me Alive)
|
| Run with the Psychopathic Hatchet
|
| Then hide!
|
| Bury me Alive (Bury me Alive)
|
| Keep it in yo clique, fuck the outside
|
| Strictly for the juggalos, bitch I thought you knew
|
| Cause we sealin up the mainstream ears with krazy glue
|
| So they can’t hear a word we say
|
| We stay Twiztid, spit the voodoo them bitches wouldn’t understand it, anyway
|
| Walk with an axe when the sun falls
|
| Talkin to the Ouija board for predictions of the Holocaust
|
| Give a fuck less about a video or airplay
|
| We stay unedited and scream till the head break
|
| This is your shit it was made for you
|
| Don’t let the radio influence you
|
| And tell you what to listen to
|
| And everyone at MTV can suck my dick
|
| Tellin me we’d be the shit if they labeled us a buzz clip
|
| Man fuck that!
|
| We be beneath the ground
|
| We rose with the hatchet, you can hear the wicked sound
|
| In your eardrums, don’t let the others get a taste
|
| And if they start bump it, go on and smack them in the face
|
| Then bury me alive
|
| «With a fury of buckshots
|
| God Damn they ruthless.» |
| 2x
|
| This ain’t no club shit, so ain’t nobody dancin'
|
| I only fuck with the dead and my motha fuckin advances
|
| Chances are, you outta luck when you fuckin' with the killas
|
| Psychopathic, fuck it we be the illest
|
| Keep it the realist
|
| Like everybody else doin that
|
| I’m in the back in black, chillin with the bloody ax
|
| When we attack
|
| We have your whole crew shook
|
| You fake ho’s know, Twiztid wrote the god damn book
|
| And I dont give a fuck
|
| Perpetrators you can suck my nuts
|
| Say you bought the album, but dont know a single cut
|
| You’s a bandwagon rida givin juggalo’s a bad name
|
| We’ll fuck you up for that, bitch this ain’t no fuckin game
|
| Fuck all that shit that the print wrote
|
| Magazines is toilet paper, glorified for the assholes
|
| Fuck Publication
|
| Syndication
|
| Music Segregation
|
| Cause we run beneath the nation
|
| So bury me alive
|
| «With a fury of buckshots
|
| God Damn they ruthless.» |
| 2x |