klokwerk e & super famous fun time guys - we're waaaack (re-werk) lyrics
[intro: whipstick]
man, this sh+t wack
uh, yo, yo, yo, yo, ha ha ha
[verse 1: whipstick]
they threw the wack signal in the sky, four of us popped up
mighty morphin’ wackness, n0body’s safe, not one
fun time’s on the klok, werkin’ with magic
once i drown this thot, she’s more attractive
you wanna call us parody? i got a pair of deez nuts
we hit the station that we playin’ then we sayin’ she sucks
wacker than a motherf+cker, laughin’ at your constant struggle
wackin’ off on back to back, call it wack, but it’s undercover dumb
[verse 2: kyle kombs]
i’m wack as f+ck, blastin’ rappers, grab the mic and run
you know that we the wackest, why you talkin’ sh+t and actin’ up?
stack it up, makin’ h+lla noise, and we back it up
you got me really wondering, like, why you ain’t as wack as us?
keep my songs on play and my name in your mouth
droppin’ bombs all day while you layin’ around
i’m really wackеr than the average though you rappеrs wish you hadn’t heard
you said you was the nicest, but they calling me the wackest
[chorus: whipstick]
(ay yo, we wack) and we packin’ all the clubs to the rafters
(ay yo, we wack) and we takin’ all the fans that you’re after
(ay yo, we wack) ain’t no mistaking, you’re facing your masters
erasing the game and basically taking you out to the pasture
(ay yo, we wack) and we packin’ all the clubs to the rafters
(ay yo, we wack) and we takin’ all the fans that you’re after
(ay yo, we wack) ain’t no mistaking, you’re facing your masters
erasing the game and basically taking you out to the pasture
(ay yo, we wack)
[verse 3: billy d]
just four guys who don’t know how to act right
might just run up in your trap and steal your crack pipe
i black eyes of those who chastise my wack rhymes
simplified, i grab the mic and file down one side
and stick it in your eyeball, night fall, the sidewalk covered in fam
reppin’ the brand, wishin’ you can, wishin’ you could
yeah, you can’t rap, but your b+tchin’ is good
wackest in the underground, but we stay getting booked
[verse 4: mr 8 legz]
ay, think about your favorite rap group on the continent (yeah)
list all the reasons that they’re dope, well, we the opposite
a bunch of ‘em common incompetent novices, whose accomplishment
is nothing more than wasting your f+ckin’ time again (dumb ass!)
we everywhere like new year’s hangovers, b+tch (yeah)
you wanted the meeting of the wackest? well, the wait’s over with (yeah)
and you just gotta take it like your f+ckin’ layover dipped (b+tch)
droppin’ a number two mid nxt pay per view, this that takeover sh+t
[chorus: whipstick]
(ay yo, we wack) and we packin’ all the clubs to the rafters
(ay yo, we wack) and we takin’ all the fans that you’re after
(ay yo, we wack) ain’t no mistaking, you’re facing your masters
erasing the game and basically taking you out to the pasture
(ay yo, we wack) and we packin’ all the clubs to the rafters
(ay yo, we wack) and we takin’ all the fans that you’re after
(ay yo, we wack) ain’t no mistaking, you’re facing your masters
erasing the game and basically taking you out to the pasture
(ay yo, we wack)
[verse 5: kyle kombs, whipstick, billy d, mr 8 legz]
i’m real wack, real lame, and i will snap
k!ll cats, k!ll the f+cking game, where the deal at
klokwerk, legz and whip, we eggs and grits
but burnt the whole pan, but you’re still paying, b+tch
yo, ain’t none wacker than some masked+up face+painted
fools in the back huffing spray paint, placated
just some idiocy, we’ll pummel the beat
we’ll make your mother boof our music and shove our fist in her pink
doing lines up by the booty crease, she just poo’d a doo, it stinks
suckin’ on her crusty feet, a super duper famous freak
bang the p+ss and scr+pe knees, we can rap, we can’t read
whipstick doing whippets ‘til his motherf+cking brain freeze
ay, if you feel you’re better, you are! we’re wingin’ it
but good luck staying afloat with those bars on a sinkin’ ship
lying to yourself that the four of us ain’t bringin’ it
we could shoot a squirt gun at the sun and f+ckin’ extinguish it, b+tch
[chorus: whipstick]
(ay yo, we wack) and we packin’ all the clubs to the rafters
(ay yo, we wack) and we takin’ all the fans that you’re after
(ay yo, we wack) ain’t no mistaking, you’re facing your masters
erasing the game and basically taking you out to the pasture
(ay yo, we wack) and we packin’ all the clubs to the rafters
(ay yo, we wack) and we takin’ all the fans that you’re after
(ay yo, we wack) ain’t no mistaking, you’re facing your masters
erasing the game and basically taking you out to the pasture
(ay yo, we wack)
[outro]
man, this sh+t wack
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