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fv - krusty's children lyrics

[verse 1]

alright, friends, you must be trippin
a bunch of wacky–ss clowns, are you krusty’s children?
that’s h-lla great, one-two, man my stuff is wicked
don’t hest-tate, kung-fu, i’mma bust these chickens
must be the sickest, man, my throat is itching
don’t have a lotta policies, but i’m opposed to b-tching
i’m like a — drug dealer, never closed to business
and i’m iller than a pillow of a hoe with syphilis
even the childrens know the flow’s ridiculous
really though i am really bored and i am growing sick of it
the daily minefield, lord of war like nicholas
i am going to spit whatever my tounge will hit me with
they say i am crazy, that’s a load of gibberish
aw, you see a flaw and i am supposed to give a sh-t?
nah, because i know that what i show is riveting
am i the greatest? oh well, hold on man, lemme think
i have to say yes ma’am – affirmative
even though my background screams that i am a white suburban kid
listen to me and check those tight–ss words i spit
i am not one to sit there, i am defiantly stirring the mix
the school is out but you are not over learning sh-t
and the sting of knowledge son it is going to burn just a bit
my soul is golden you are not golden you are silverish
so riddle me with it, who’s the boldest villain there is?
that is me i am glad we agree
what can i say man, gee all you chalengers flee
i am like the rza mothaf-ckers you are apalling to me
and you know what? i got no friends, you all are just enemies

[…]

all you misognystic weirdo f-cks talk about nothing but… f-cking b-tches, doing chicks , scr-w-ng females, banging babes, pounding girls, boning honeys, porking sl-ts…
that is not my style, that is not my style at all, wanna know why? okay, i tell you why:

[verse 2]

’cause i don’t f-ck b-tches
i am more considerate – i hug b-tches
and ask them how their day went
was it fun b-tches?
i got heart, beating so strong
that my lung itches
i am such a gentleman
her c-nt twiches
i am a hunter-gatherer so really, f-ck fridges
i roll a fatty and i burn it – you’re in motherf-cking luck, briges
life is a b-tch and the sl-t is frigid
and f-ck death, ’cause she isn’t giving up the digits
but this is ist man, i gotta live it
i am like motherf-cking earth, man, i got to pivot
i will be winning for eternity not a minute
but not this moment, ’cause my stomach’s
got about a dozen bottles in him…
and pretty soon, i be vomiting ’em
it is sucha shame though cause so much alcohol was in ’em
a quick sneeze and i am back on my feet, asking for weed
taking a puff, and i am back for dinner

- fv lyrics

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