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jackin' foe beats - violent j lyrics

[intro]
(drop a old school beat)
“the original jackin’ for beats: ice cube”
“jackin’ for beats 2: sticky fingaz”
“jackin’ for beats 3: (straight jackin’) violent j (brother) of icp”
“what?”

[verse 1]
get chopped, wakin’ the dead master
i’ll twist your head backwards off instinct, then my hatchet sink
in your back. say a prayers, my detroit players
i’ll be sick juggalos, stickin’ d-ck in the nose
we brush you better than you do if we choose to
if we use your beat eschew will lose too
it’s a who’s who of whose own flow we brush new
soon everyone will be crushed, so we in no rush to

[verse 2]
“hatchet!”
“duke is doin’ it.” (straight jackin’)
[?] ninja bustin’ 9 milli’s in the air
f-ckin’ with these painted k!ller clowns, juggalos
i dare you, get in here, don’t even breathe our air. we hear you
there would disappear you clear the area we share, b-tch
you best beware, ’cause we’ll tear right through your vest, don’t spare you
so you’ll be left, you embarr-ssed, now [?] and don’t compare us
’cause they only hearin’ us and trust you whilst it homie glarin’ is a must
your sh-t’s phat without the phat, millions of fans (“hated that!”)
only fresh when you fade to black. that track was dope, you made it wack
reverse platinum, gave ’em back that plaque. they came to take it back

[verse 3]
“i took your f-ckin’ music, and i ain’t pay to use it”
(straight jackin’)
(i’m admitted doin’ sh-t deep down in the graveyard)
your beat wasn’t sh-t ’til i stoled it (that’s right)
why the f-ck would you even let me hold it? (hold it)
spread my b-tt cheaks, lick my f-ckin’ milk dud (milk dud)
let me nuts h-t your tonsils and throat blood (that’s right)
your beat wasn’t sh-t ’til i stoled it (ha ha)
what you did with this beat was some bullsh-t (ha ha)
spread my b-tt cheeks, lick my f-ckin’ milk dud (oh yeah)
diss me, they’ll be slippin’ on your spilled blood (alright)
hey you, b-tch boy, is you dreamin’? (is you dreamin’?)
open up your lips, guzzle my s-m-n (my s-m-n)
sue me, b-tch. get in line. (get in line)
i don’t care; i’m broke. that’s fine

[verse 4]
(straight jackin’)
“hatchet!”
i’m the king of pop, ’cause i pop ninjas like a wheelie
pay for this you hope. nope! your beat is dope, i steal it. feel me ninjas?
i pay for nothin’! nut in your whole belly b-tton
tell me somethin’: why the f-ck we yellin’? for nothin’
i pluck your sh-t. sue me. so what? you nothin’ to me
heard you be booty stuffin’ right up your doodie m-ffin
your sh-t be extra roomy, blew out your fruity b-tt in sl-ttin’
ruined your p–p chute, it’s through with shuttin’

[verse 5]
this is now violent j’s new sh-t
and none of y’all about to do sh-t. check it
take your fresh beat and rework it
and insane clown wicked here to merk it
ti krem ot ereh dekciw nwolc enasni dna
ti krem ot ereh dekciw nwolc enasni dna
took your fresh beat, made it my sh-t
start a wicked–ss juggalo mosh pit
ti krem ot ereh dekciw nwolc enasni dna
ti krem ot ereh dekciw nwolc enasni dna

[verse 6]
“yeah, even if you’re down with my crew”
(yeah) “these mother f-ckers need to know”
“ain’t no wicked sh-t like this detroit wicked wicketsh-t”
six six five, h-lla live
liftin’ this is a felony crime from the up down i-75
enemies die. e and j with the heavenly vibe
an esham cl-ssic, i’ma sn-tch it, try to match it
’cause it truly is that bad–ss sh-t
these mother f-ckin’ big stars in charge
pluckin’ sh-t from the underground, dippin’ hard
now we rippin’ your sh-t off, livin’ large
straight trippin’, makin’ your sh-t ours

[verse 7]
and your sh-t was weak until i freaked it
now it’s got a whole new light
weak until i freaked it (freaked it)
suddenly the groove feels right
i took your sh-t and lit it up
now it’s tight and shinin’ bright
i took your sh-t and lit it up
hit me if you wanna fight
“we can thump. i’ll ice that d-mn jaw”

[verse 8]
“yo. icp. let’s do this. ha ha ha!”
alright, stop (brother!) you never liked this track?
it’s mine now, mother f-cker. the sh-t phat
rob’s my boy. you diss his rappin’
fifteen times, b-tch boy. platinum
he f-cked madonna, or she f-cked him
well you f-cked her jackin’ off, pretend
58,000,000 chillin’ in the bank
let’s see what you got: blank

[outro]
“family! family! family! family! family! family! family!”

- violent j lyrics

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