lirik lagu shaggy 2 dope - fuck the fuck off
kill him… kill him… put him to death…
kil him… kill him… put him to death.
guess who’s back in this b-tch again
with a fresh set of b-lls bouncin’ off your chin
i’m 2 dope
switch my sh-t up, no
for these hands to grope hoes, and b-tches hoe
now everybody thinks their sh-ts the wickedest
them hoes spittin wicked sh-t is ridiculous
back off, jack off, ya’ll ain’t spooky
bitin’ my cd’s like they delicious cookies
> from sicily, france, back to bangladesh
ain’t no f-ckin’ body bout to hang with this
fans get punched in the head with a b-ss
drop rhyme after rhyme, headb-ttin your face
f-ck off, this shot, spin my nuts
ya’ll be suckin more d-ck than sl-ts
i’m crackin this cd in half with the scrubness
now f-ck the f-ck off, who finna b-mp this?
chorus: (x2)
this sh-t ain’t for p-ssy heads (so f-ck off)
this ain’t for you rookie kids (f-ck the f-ck off)
bl–dy creatures carve your head out (so f-ck off)
this the sh-t that brings the dead out (f-ck the f-ck off)
i don’t need a f-ckin band for my beats
mike clark and me both bootin’ your cheeks
the stage, the mic, and a juggalo army
hoes climb up and try to grind on me
any dumb freak tryin’a steal my stage
gets punched in the -ss and kicked in the face
f-ck your dresscode, i swing my b-lls
f-ck your restrooms, i’m p-ssin on walls
securities look like weak -ss wrestlers
pettin’ kids down like child molesters
i’m sick of this bullsh-t, i’m sh-ggs the clown
we cuttin’ craniums off then drag em around
you know me, when i drive by, mumbling sparks
in the little yellow bus, packed full of r-t-rds
and we off the charts, under the radar
deep in the dumpster where the real juggalos are
chorus: (x2)
this sh-t ain’t for p-ssy heads (so f-ck off)
this ain’t for you rookie kids (f-ck the f-ck off)
bl–dy creatures carve your head out (so f-ck off)
this the sh-t that brings the dead out (f-ck the f-ck off)
can we get a witness?!(x6)
diss my sh-t and get shot in the back
you ain’t gonna be the first b-tch i smacked
the clown walk boogie, i mastered the move
cuttin through wiggies with somethin’ to prove
on who?
us?
me?
sh-t, please
lick these
you’re a sh-ggamaniac, you can’t ignore me
and tell your mom to f-ckin f-ck off for me
f-ck these hoes, they tryina take riches
i’m the southwest strangla, windpipe tangala
i’m gone too fast, with a ninja poof
skeet on your face is the only proof
f-ck off! that is what i tell the earth
i’ve been runnin with the hatchet from the day of my birth
so who the f-ck you think you’re f-ckin with?
you can f-ck the f-ckin’ f-ck off, b-tch!
chorus: (x4)
this sh-t ain’t for p-ssy heads (so f-ck off)
this ain’t for you rookie kids (f-ck the f-ck off)
bl–dy creatures carve your head out (so f-ck off)
this the sh-t that brings the dead out (f-ck the f-ck off)
hehehehehehhoohohooo
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