icp insane clown posse - ain't yo bidness lyrics
[intro:] rude boy sittin pancaked on 23’s
clown love to chicago juggalos
we underground like blaze
my dead homie
and yours
we dead
we dead, no wait a minute… we don’t die!
we don’t die
we dead
[violent j:]
maybe i like bl–dy, murder music, you know sh-t like ” stab your f-ckin eye”
maybe i like eatin sh-t like tylenol pm’s cuz 5 or 6 will get you high
maybe i like punchin people i don’t even know, i knock em flat up f-ckin out (pah)
tuck some money in they jacket with a note that simply reads ” i had to let some anger out” (sorry)
maybe i only hang with weirdos, and hoodlums, and junkies, i keep em be my side (what up)
maybe mam doesnt’t’t understand a friend is hard to come by, so i’ll keep what i can find (my boys)
maybe i got 2 felonies, tattoos on my neck and i always paint my face
can i still data your daugter? i mean i think i outta, i like the way she taste
[chorus:]
aint yo bidness
how i act!
aint yo bidness
don’t get slapped!
aint yo concern
what we do
less you want yo
face slapped too!
[violent j:]
maybe i don’t even like you, but i gotta front cuz your a record label guy (mother f-cker)
what if i dragged you by the hair, into the street, and beat your -ss, and put a boot up in your eye (puh! b-tch!)
maybe i would rather f-ck a missy elliot before a tony… “braxton”
maybe i would rather f-ck a mecy grey before a janet… “jackson”
maybe i don’t have no self esteem so i like to pick on everbody else
maybe when i was a boy, underneath my shirt i had bruises and welts “oh” (its ok)
maybe i was hungry, bottom barrel poor, and my mom was always sick
maybe i’m lying, i’m just trying to find an excuse to be a d-ck, i’m a d-ck – d-ck
maybe i’m upset that you left me, i’ll ahng myself right above your bed ” you should try suicide”
from the ceiling fan, so i’ll be swingin when you walk i, i might kick you in the head (stook!)
maybe i got seven therapists, i been committed, but manager he got me free (double a yall)
18 pills a day, i get so dizzy and high, sometimes i can’t even see, (i gotta sit down)
[chorus:]
aint yo bidness
how i act!
aint yo bidness
don’t get slapped!
aint yo concern
what we do
less you want yo
face slapped too!
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