Fuck the Police (feat. Insane Clown Posse) 歌词
| 歌曲 | Fuck the Police (feat. Insane Clown Posse) |
| 歌手 | Kottonmouth Kings |
| 专辑 | Long Live The Kings |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| Ah fuck, not this asshole again | |
| (All right, superstar, hands on the steering wheel.) | |
| What's the fuckin' problem, man?) | |
| (Any drugs or any weapons in the vehicle?) | |
| (I'm Frank Babbit, goddamit; I mean business, punk) | |
| I know who you are. Fuck that | |
| (I told you boys I got my eyes on you) | |
| Fuck the police | |
| Man, lick these nuts | |
| (What did you just say?) | |
| Fuck the police | |
| (Why you gotta sweat us?) | |
| I'll tell you why I'm sweating | |
| They say protect and serve, then why the fuck am I handcuffed on the curb? | |
| Hey, outta of the car [crosstalk] gun | |
| Well here's another tale from the Subnoize shot callers | |
| Put it on the scale and we show you how to clock dollars | |
| Banging down the block | |
| , got my system on hit | |
| Fly ass bitch all over my dick | |
| Take another hit of the chronic | |
| than I bounce down to | |
| Johnny Richter's house so I could score another ounce | |
| Well that's the way it is – I'm a Kottonmouth King | |
| Rolling through the 'burbs, blowing big smoke rings | |
| Cops on my tail; they in hot pursuit | |
| I got my 215 but no excuse for the loot | |
| I'm holding over 10 Gs, mostly big face bills | |
| I got some old warrants and a bottle of pills | |
| I gotta think fast, so I'm heading to the pokey | |
| I banged a quick left and I ditched Old Smokey | |
| Pig flew by, didn't look my way | |
| I must be higher than I thought – today's a damned good day | |
| Fuck you – I buy bacon, we don't need it on the streets | |
| If a problem crackin' off I sure don't call the police | |
| I'm calling snipers in your city code, cops I smell | |
| Only trying to make a buck up off us – crooked as hell | |
| I smashed on 'em by the simple fact that I'm holding 30 pounds | |
| Make my way up into Michigan, smoke it with the clowns | |
| You are not dealing with illegal people | |
| No longer safe or sound | |
| Bullets are flying all over the place | |
| And blood is soaking the ground | |
| I'm squeezing the hell out of Rugers and Glocks | |
| You seeing them flatten their flocks | |
| I speeding away and heating the box | |
| We play some weed and flip a bitch up in the hurry fashion | |
| And who now do I see? It's Violent J, hatchet slashin’ | |
| I'm sick of swine in my area | |
| Yeah, it's Mr. Dirt Bags | |
| Pigs all up in my biz | |
| (What did you just call me? | |
| All together now: fuck 'em | |
| They got for sales in my distribution grid | |
| (Fuck you, punk ass.) | |
| (Dispatch, I got a '78 Cutlass sedan, smoke billowing out. Two Caucasian males with paint. A license plate ICP. Run a check please.) | |
| Cruising down the street | |
| It's the do-gooder Duke of the wicked Violent J Jake the Big Dog | |
| Drinking Faygo like a madman | |
| I'm screaming \"Fuck the police!\" | |
| Well if I see them lights flash | |
| With the shoka soogy back flip I fatten that lip | |
| Cuz fuck going to the stone bone | |
| I'd rather bury one of you butt nuggets away | |
| I'm a wicked ass clown (with stiffs in the trunk) | |
| And when I grip the whip (you can sniff in the funk) | |
| Kid, cuz where I'm from it ain't about all that playin' | |
| Now that's what I'm saying (whoop!) | |
| I hear the sirens blare | |
| In the middle of your donut treat is my meat | |
| You can quote me now, bitch, cuz I'm so sweet | |
| I'm trying to roll this blunt | |
| (Yeah, I'm gonna roll your clown ass) | |
| What the fuck you want? | |
| (Is that a hatchet in the back seat?) | |
| Yeah, it's all fun and games | |
| 'Til I saw your face off and choke your brains | |
| (Yeah, looks like I got myself a little Richter here) | |
| What's your fuckin' problem, man? | |
| (Get out of the car, asswipe. I thought I told you I didn't want to see you) | |
| Why'd you even pull me over? | |
| (Yeah, some people never learn. Hey if you run I'm pulling steel!) | |
| Man, fuck you motherfucker! | |
| Man I just hate it when I start the blaze and see the blue and red behind my head | |
| Now they're harassing me, asking me where I'm going, where I've been | |
| There's people passing me laughing and now I'm starting to get upset | |
| Why you harassing me, pig? | |
| Yeah, I gotta fuck you for the boys in blue | |
| And all the undercovers, yeah, fuck you too | |
| Got a big old bowl of fuck you soup | |
| And if yous fuck gonna catch you soon | |
| About my stash and grow room or we might have to hunt you down | |
| Touch tomb, desert for a dunes doom | |
| Trying to fuck the police ones with real big boo, boo, boobs | |
| Yeah, fuck the police | |
| That's become a straight from the leg (you know) | |
| Up on the hill you know we puffing on the dank | |
| And taking on the fakes is what we do | |
| We shuckin' rocks, you know, at your crew | |
| We drink and brew, you know we getting tattoo | |
| We killing sex in the afternoon | |
| And talk about me (what?) | |
| Talk about who (you know) | |
| Get this popo out his blue | |
| Y'all can suck my dick | |
| I want some weed shit | |
| I'm saying fuck the police | |
| Coming straight from J Rich |
| Ah fuck, not this asshole again | |
| All right, superstar, hands on the steering wheel. | |
| What' s the fuckin' problem, man? | |
| Any drugs or any weapons in the vehicle? | |
| I' m Frank Babbit, goddamit I mean business, punk | |
| I know who you are. Fuck that | |
| I told you boys I got my eyes on you | |
| Fuck the police | |
| Man, lick these nuts | |
| What did you just say? | |
| Fuck the police | |
| Why you gotta sweat us? | |
| I' ll tell you why I' m sweating | |
| They say protect and serve, then why the fuck am I handcuffed on the curb? | |
| Hey, outta of the car crosstalk gun | |
| Well here' s another tale from the Subnoize shot callers | |
| Put it on the scale and we show you how to clock dollars | |
| Banging down the block | |
| , got my system on hit | |
| Fly ass bitch all over my dick | |
| Take another hit of the chronic | |
| than I bounce down to | |
| Johnny Richter' s house so I could score another ounce | |
| Well that' s the way it is I' m a Kottonmouth King | |
| Rolling through the ' burbs, blowing big smoke rings | |
| Cops on my tail they in hot pursuit | |
| I got my 215 but no excuse for the loot | |
| I' m holding over 10 Gs, mostly big face bills | |
| I got some old warrants and a bottle of pills | |
| I gotta think fast, so I' m heading to the pokey | |
| I banged a quick left and I ditched Old Smokey | |
| Pig flew by, didn' t look my way | |
| I must be higher than I thought today' s a damned good day | |
| Fuck you I buy bacon, we don' t need it on the streets | |
| If a problem crackin' off I sure don' t call the police | |
| I' m calling snipers in your city code, cops I smell | |
| Only trying to make a buck up off us crooked as hell | |
| I smashed on ' em by the simple fact that I' m holding 30 pounds | |
| Make my way up into Michigan, smoke it with the clowns | |
| You are not dealing with illegal people | |
| No longer safe or sound | |
| Bullets are flying all over the place | |
| And blood is soaking the ground | |
| I' m squeezing the hell out of Rugers and Glocks | |
| You seeing them flatten their flocks | |
| I speeding away and heating the box | |
| We play some weed and flip a bitch up in the hurry fashion | |
| And who now do I see? It' s Violent J, hatchet slashin' | |
| I' m sick of swine in my area | |
| Yeah, it' s Mr. Dirt Bags | |
| Pigs all up in my biz | |
| What did you just call me? | |
| All together now: fuck ' em | |
| They got for sales in my distribution grid | |
| Fuck you, punk ass. | |
| Dispatch, I got a ' 78 Cutlass sedan, smoke billowing out. Two Caucasian males with paint. A license plate ICP. Run a check please. | |
| Cruising down the street | |
| It' s the dogooder Duke of the wicked Violent J Jake the Big Dog | |
| Drinking Faygo like a madman | |
| I' m screaming " Fuck the police!" | |
| Well if I see them lights flash | |
| With the shoka soogy back flip I fatten that lip | |
| Cuz fuck going to the stone bone | |
| I' d rather bury one of you butt nuggets away | |
| I' m a wicked ass clown with stiffs in the trunk | |
| And when I grip the whip you can sniff in the funk | |
| Kid, cuz where I' m from it ain' t about all that playin' | |
| Now that' s what I' m saying whoop! | |
| I hear the sirens blare | |
| In the middle of your donut treat is my meat | |
| You can quote me now, bitch, cuz I' m so sweet | |
| I' m trying to roll this blunt | |
| Yeah, I' m gonna roll your clown ass | |
| What the fuck you want? | |
| Is that a hatchet in the back seat? | |
| Yeah, it' s all fun and games | |
| ' Til I saw your face off and choke your brains | |
| Yeah, looks like I got myself a little Richter here | |
| What' s your fuckin' problem, man? | |
| Get out of the car, asswipe. I thought I told you I didn' t want to see you | |
| Why' d you even pull me over? | |
| Yeah, some people never learn. Hey if you run I' m pulling steel! | |
| Man, fuck you motherfucker! | |
| Man I just hate it when I start the blaze and see the blue and red behind my head | |
| Now they' re harassing me, asking me where I' m going, where I' ve been | |
| There' s people passing me laughing and now I' m starting to get upset | |
| Why you harassing me, pig? | |
| Yeah, I gotta fuck you for the boys in blue | |
| And all the undercovers, yeah, fuck you too | |
| Got a big old bowl of fuck you soup | |
| And if yous fuck gonna catch you soon | |
| About my stash and grow room or we might have to hunt you down | |
| Touch tomb, desert for a dunes doom | |
| Trying to fuck the police ones with real big boo, boo, boobs | |
| Yeah, fuck the police | |
| That' s become a straight from the leg you know | |
| Up on the hill you know we puffing on the dank | |
| And taking on the fakes is what we do | |
| We shuckin' rocks, you know, at your crew | |
| We drink and brew, you know we getting tattoo | |
| We killing sex in the afternoon | |
| And talk about me what? | |
| Talk about who you know | |
| Get this popo out his blue | |
| Y' all can suck my dick | |
| I want some weed shit | |
| I' m saying fuck the police | |
| Coming straight from J Rich |
| Ah fuck, not this asshole again | |
| All right, superstar, hands on the steering wheel. | |
| What' s the fuckin' problem, man? | |
| Any drugs or any weapons in the vehicle? | |
| I' m Frank Babbit, goddamit I mean business, punk | |
| I know who you are. Fuck that | |
| I told you boys I got my eyes on you | |
| Fuck the police | |
| Man, lick these nuts | |
| What did you just say? | |
| Fuck the police | |
| Why you gotta sweat us? | |
| I' ll tell you why I' m sweating | |
| They say protect and serve, then why the fuck am I handcuffed on the curb? | |
| Hey, outta of the car crosstalk gun | |
| Well here' s another tale from the Subnoize shot callers | |
| Put it on the scale and we show you how to clock dollars | |
| Banging down the block | |
| , got my system on hit | |
| Fly ass bitch all over my dick | |
| Take another hit of the chronic | |
| than I bounce down to | |
| Johnny Richter' s house so I could score another ounce | |
| Well that' s the way it is I' m a Kottonmouth King | |
| Rolling through the ' burbs, blowing big smoke rings | |
| Cops on my tail they in hot pursuit | |
| I got my 215 but no excuse for the loot | |
| I' m holding over 10 Gs, mostly big face bills | |
| I got some old warrants and a bottle of pills | |
| I gotta think fast, so I' m heading to the pokey | |
| I banged a quick left and I ditched Old Smokey | |
| Pig flew by, didn' t look my way | |
| I must be higher than I thought today' s a damned good day | |
| Fuck you I buy bacon, we don' t need it on the streets | |
| If a problem crackin' off I sure don' t call the police | |
| I' m calling snipers in your city code, cops I smell | |
| Only trying to make a buck up off us crooked as hell | |
| I smashed on ' em by the simple fact that I' m holding 30 pounds | |
| Make my way up into Michigan, smoke it with the clowns | |
| You are not dealing with illegal people | |
| No longer safe or sound | |
| Bullets are flying all over the place | |
| And blood is soaking the ground | |
| I' m squeezing the hell out of Rugers and Glocks | |
| You seeing them flatten their flocks | |
| I speeding away and heating the box | |
| We play some weed and flip a bitch up in the hurry fashion | |
| And who now do I see? It' s Violent J, hatchet slashin' | |
| I' m sick of swine in my area | |
| Yeah, it' s Mr. Dirt Bags | |
| Pigs all up in my biz | |
| What did you just call me? | |
| All together now: fuck ' em | |
| They got for sales in my distribution grid | |
| Fuck you, punk ass. | |
| Dispatch, I got a ' 78 Cutlass sedan, smoke billowing out. Two Caucasian males with paint. A license plate ICP. Run a check please. | |
| Cruising down the street | |
| It' s the dogooder Duke of the wicked Violent J Jake the Big Dog | |
| Drinking Faygo like a madman | |
| I' m screaming " Fuck the police!" | |
| Well if I see them lights flash | |
| With the shoka soogy back flip I fatten that lip | |
| Cuz fuck going to the stone bone | |
| I' d rather bury one of you butt nuggets away | |
| I' m a wicked ass clown with stiffs in the trunk | |
| And when I grip the whip you can sniff in the funk | |
| Kid, cuz where I' m from it ain' t about all that playin' | |
| Now that' s what I' m saying whoop! | |
| I hear the sirens blare | |
| In the middle of your donut treat is my meat | |
| You can quote me now, bitch, cuz I' m so sweet | |
| I' m trying to roll this blunt | |
| Yeah, I' m gonna roll your clown ass | |
| What the fuck you want? | |
| Is that a hatchet in the back seat? | |
| Yeah, it' s all fun and games | |
| ' Til I saw your face off and choke your brains | |
| Yeah, looks like I got myself a little Richter here | |
| What' s your fuckin' problem, man? | |
| Get out of the car, asswipe. I thought I told you I didn' t want to see you | |
| Why' d you even pull me over? | |
| Yeah, some people never learn. Hey if you run I' m pulling steel! | |
| Man, fuck you motherfucker! | |
| Man I just hate it when I start the blaze and see the blue and red behind my head | |
| Now they' re harassing me, asking me where I' m going, where I' ve been | |
| There' s people passing me laughing and now I' m starting to get upset | |
| Why you harassing me, pig? | |
| Yeah, I gotta fuck you for the boys in blue | |
| And all the undercovers, yeah, fuck you too | |
| Got a big old bowl of fuck you soup | |
| And if yous fuck gonna catch you soon | |
| About my stash and grow room or we might have to hunt you down | |
| Touch tomb, desert for a dunes doom | |
| Trying to fuck the police ones with real big boo, boo, boobs | |
| Yeah, fuck the police | |
| That' s become a straight from the leg you know | |
| Up on the hill you know we puffing on the dank | |
| And taking on the fakes is what we do | |
| We shuckin' rocks, you know, at your crew | |
| We drink and brew, you know we getting tattoo | |
| We killing sex in the afternoon | |
| And talk about me what? | |
| Talk about who you know | |
| Get this popo out his blue | |
| Y' all can suck my dick | |
| I want some weed shit | |
| I' m saying fuck the police | |
| Coming straight from J Rich |
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