(Violent J) 

Tick...Tock (x4) 

BANG! 



(Violent J) 

I'm like a hand grenade about to pop in seconds 

My therapy wicked shit on these records 

And I'm trying to shine when I spit this rhyme 

Punch you in the gut so hard I break your spine 

Right there, I just visionaried that shit 

So deep in your gut I hit your spine and cracked it 

What the fuck is stopping me from making that really happen? 

It did happen right here in my rapping 

You know how many bitches I fucked off this? 

I'm talking fine ass hoes 

And look at me, I ain't shit 

And yet super ass hotties be blowing my shit up 

And half the time I don't even show up 

We role with the hatchet like nuns role with church 

And to us, the hatchet means more then some merch 

We travel, seen the Grand Canyon 66 times 

Spitting wicked shit rhymes 

Some fucking how... 







(Chorus x2) 

We're spitting 

(Live shows) 

We're fucking 

(Fine hoes) 

Somehow as 

(Time goes) 

How'd it all happen? 

(I don't know) 





(Violent J) 

I hate people 

I get into fights everyday 

It seems like everybody feel like they got something to say 

To a clown hater 

Aside I still ride plush 

If I ain't riding spinners 

I'm in a 8th street tour bus 

Packed clubs, England, Aussie everywhere 

And we ain't ever really flied over there 

I don't fucking know 

It just happened like that 

And plus the phat fact that we can rap bitch 

I roll deep, even if I go for chip dip 

And ain't a bitch I meet that don't sip dick 

Think about it clown paint, rap songs, hard work 

Who the fuck ever made anybody an expert? 

If we can do it, shit 

Fuck that, we did it 

So what the fuck is your idea bitch? 

Come with it 

Our shit paid off and we never get laid off 

And we never get played so we never fade off 

Some fucking how.... 





(Chorus x2) 

We're spitting 

(Live shows) 

We're fucking 

(Fine hoes) 

Somehow as 

(Time goes) 

How'd it all happen? 

(I don't know) 





(Violent J) 

I got some woods by my house 

And they all mine 

I'm about to put a gate up around them 

And let loose a lion ya'll 

Cause it would fuck up them 3 dogs of mine 

And they be licking my toes 

When I be writing these rhymes 

And I'm out my fucking mind 

Bitches sometimes damn 

I just can't believe it when I be fucking them 

They look good enough to be up in a magazine or something 

With my scrubby ass humping them 

Back in the day you bitches never woulda even look my way 

Not even if I ran up in your fucking ear and yelled "HEY!!" 

Watching TV, it's hatchet signs in the crowd 

Letting every mothafucking body know that they proud 

How the fuck am I supposed to get used to this freshness? 

Half the fucking time I just front and stay breathless 

And fuck man somehow we get paid for this shit 

I bought my momma a crib and told her to quit 

Some fucking how... 





(Chorus x2) 

We're spitting 

(Live shows) 

We're fucking 

(Fine hoes) 

Somehow as 

(Time goes) 

How'd it all happen? 

(I don't know) 





Some fucking how 

On the real though 

Some fucking how...