logab. - i hate white 78.7% of canadians lyrics
[intro]
this song goes out to all my minorities in canada
i hate you guys slightly less than the white ones
(brrrt, ahhhh)
(woo!)
[verse 1]
canadians suck on my d+ck like they gettin’ paid
over caring crackers that refuse to get laid
gotta make the bag so they gettin’ lemonade
we slinging meth they out here slinging minute maid
your maple syrup is sub+par, hockey f+ckin sucks
you add morons with hockey and you get the mighty ducks
your wife sucking on my d+ck, y’all a bunch of cucks
you’re reading about submarines while she spitting on my nuts
canadians are stupid and they speak mad funny
when i talk to canadians it hurts my tummy
a boot? yeah more like a toot
when i have s+x on canadians +pfff+ you know i shoot
frosty morons, great white north
ugly child you abort
i’d rather go and f+ck a horse
all your d+cks are really short
great white d+ck that i sport
minute maid is what you snort
good at handling b+lls?
yeah come and see me on the court, b+tch
[break]
god, i hate 78.7 percent of canadians
white motherf+ckers whose live just need to end
god needs to spite these grueling individuals down, you know?
i mean, no one wants them around. no one
they suck so much
i just wish this would be brought up more based on its urgency
f+ck
[verse 2]
i took a dna test it looks like i’m canadian
i’m+ wait what i’m canadian?
hold up. what the f+ck?
i’m gonna go beat the sh+t out of my parents
i stormed into my parents’ room while they were asleep
planted 30 consecutive punches on my father’s cheek
then went over to my mom took a rock to her head
i hog+tied her on the bed, i left her for dead
then i dragged my sobbing father down a flight of f+ckin’ stairs
then i one+by+one plucked out every one of his hairs
i hung him by the ceiling, legs cuffed to the walls
i took out a whip and took twenty lashes at his b+lls
obviously i take part in the act of whipping his b+lls so he can no longer conceive children of which are the canadian decent (no more kids)
cause you know, that’d just be outright gross and i don’t want any more of those lil’ f+ckers running around
i dissect his f+ckin’ scr+t+m like a frog in biology
pokin’ at his nuts like some guts no apology
untether his f+ckin’ b+lls and laugh maniacally
there’s no point in slowing down as no one will be stopping me
yeah i start to pee, p+ss is soaking down my knee
unlock the whip turn the key. i still gotta pee
the children on the street start to point in laugh at me
i spill my coffee, now i got some burns of the third degree (no!)
as i speed down the road i see the blue lights flash
yelling “pull over your car!”, “hand over the cash!”
i don’t really mind the cracker as i’m stuck in my thoughts
god i f+cking hate my life, f+ck. why am i canadian, why, why!?
god, f+ck. god wouldn’t let me+ugh
yankee doodle rode to town riding on a pony
stuck a feather in his cap and called it macaroni
i cry to myself as i dodge past the blokes
i wanna k!ll myself but i can only hope
i try to turn into a car and then i choke
i scream in pain, turn the wheel, and then i grope
i speed up my car, going 137
i see the blue lights flash, i’mma send this b+tch to heaven
i put a brick on the gas and i jump out the window
i take a leap of faith and i miss the f+cking car
i splat on the pavement like a little girl’s ice cream
except i’m a living human, that f+cking hurt
i look up as i see a bone coming out my arm
i hear some screeching tires and i get run over by a car
the moral of this story is that 78.7 percent of canadians f+ckin’ suck
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