Fred: Say what say what?
Jon: My dick is bigger than yours...
Fred: Say what say what?
Jon: My band is bigger than yours...
Fred: Too bad I got your beans in my bag stuck up sucka´ Korny
motherfucka´. Takin´ over foes is the Limp pimp need a Bizkit to save
this
crew from Jon Davis. I´m gonna drop a little east side skill ya best
step back
´cuz I´m ´a kill I´m ´a kill. So watcha thinking Mr. Raggedy man?
Doin´ all you
can to look like Raggedy Ann.
Jon: I´ll Check you out punk, yes I know you feel it. You look like
one of those
dancers from the Hanson video, you little faggot ho. Please give me
some shit
to wreck with, ´cuz right now I´m all wicked, suck my dick kid, like
your daddy
did.
Fred: Who the fuck you think you´re talking to??
Jon: Me.
Fred: I´m known for eatin´ little whiny chumps like you.
Jon: Whatever.
Fred: All up in my face with that...
Jon: Are you ready?!?
Fred: But halitosis, is all you´re rockin´ steady. You little fairy,
smelling all
your flowers. Nappy hairy chest, look it´s Austin Powers!
Jon: Yeah, baby!
Fred: I hear ya tootin´ on them bagpipes clad, but you said it best,
there´s
No Place To Hide.
Jon: What the fuck ya´ sayin´? You´re a pimp whateva´, limp dick. Fred
Durst
needs to rehearse, needs to reverse what he´s saying. Wanna be
funkdoobiest when you´re playin´, rippin´ up a bad counterfeit,
fakin´! Plus your bills I´m
paying, you can´t eat that shit every day, Fred.
Jon: Lay off the bacon
Fred: Say what, say what? You better watch your fuckin´ mouth, Jon.
CHORUS:
Jon: So you hate me?
Fred: and I hate you!
Jon: You know what, you know what?
Both: It´s all in the family.
Jon: I hate you!
Fred: and you hate me!
Jon: You know what, you know what?
Both: It´s all in the family.
Jon: Look at you fool, I´m gonna fuck you up twice, throwin´ rhymes at
me
like, oh shit alright, Vanilla Ice. Ya better run, run while ya can,
you´ll never fuck me
up, Bisc Limpkit. At least I got a phat, original band.
Fred: Who´s hot, who´s not?
Jon: You.
Fred: You best step back, Korn on the cob, you need a new job. Time to
take
them mic skills back to the dentist, and buy yourself a new grill.
Jon: Fuck you.
Fred: You pumpkin pie, I´ll jack-off in your eye. Climbing shoots and
ladders,
while your ego shatters. But you just can´t get away.
Jon: Get a gay?
Fred: ´Cuz it´s doomsday kid, it´s doomsday.
CHORUS
Fred: You call yourself a singer?
Jon: Yep.
Fred: You´re more like Jerry Springer.
Jon: Oh cool!
Fred: Your favorite band is winger,
Jon: Winger?
Fred: and all you eat is Zingers. You´re like a Fruity Pebble, your
favorite flag
is rebel.
Jon: Yeeeeeehaaaaaa!!
Fred: It´s just too bad that you´re a faggot on a lower level.
Jon: So you´re from Jacksonville, kickin´ it like Buffalo Bill.
Gettin´ butt-fucked
by your uncle Chuck, while your sister´s on her knees waitin´ for your
little peanut.
Fred: Wait, where´d ya get that little dance?
Jon: Over here.
Fred: Like them idiots in Waco, you´re burning up in Bako where your
father
had your mother, your mother had your brother, it´s just too bad your
father´s
mad, your mother´s now your lover.
Jon: Come on hillbilly, can your horse do a fuckin´ wheelie? You love
it down
south in the fall, you sure do got a purdy mouth.
CHORUS
Jon: and I love you!
Fred: and I want you!
Jon: and I´ll suck you!
Fred: and I´ll fuck you!
Jon: and I´ll butt-fuck you!
Fred: and I´ll eat you!
Jon: and I´ll lick your little dick, motherfucka´.
Fred: Say what? Say... what?