"f*ck em, fu-fu-f*ck f*ck em all"
"I bury those cockroaches"
"What'd they ever do for us?"
"I bury those cockroaches"
"f*ck you man!"
I gotta bone to pick cause I'm sick
Of you motherf*ckers talkin shit
We pick you up, you put us down and I'm mad
Time to talk about your dog ass
Jealous motherf*ckers its seems wanna try the Ak'
"How do you do em?" f*ck em up like a cardiac
So if your curious get a blood donor
Cause I'mma f*ck you up so bad, that you're momma won't know ya
I pity the fool who diss the mastermind of wreckin shit
Now let me tell ya somethin bitch
Get yaself headstone and a box of pine
Cause when I catch up with ya, ya ass is mine
The line is drawn word is bond
The motherf*ckers who crossed it are dead and gone
Punk motherf*ckers gon suck a dick
Bushwick, "Yeah money" what you think about this bullshit?
f*ck those unknown motherf*ckers
With a 10 foot pole that can't touch us
Before the Geto Boys came around
You can't front their clout, H-town was no town
Yeah we know you still skeptic
Cause we ain't kissin no God damn ass to be accepted
And if you're waitin on that to happen sucka
You'll be a waitin motherf*cker
Shit outta luck, stuck and got f*cked
Fo's up to those who down with us
And to you other mothaf*ckas in the atmosphere
I'm sayin f*ck you loud and clear
Radios, newspapers, TVs
Spreadin lies across the seven seas
Many people thought we couldn't endure
Niggaz are buyin now they ain't so sure
Billboard has us check out our status
I don't understand you hoes, whats the matter
The motherf*ckers are sick
Constipated, col' fulla shit
They tried to keep us off the market
Straight up hoe shit, they had to stock it
My back don't pack no monkeys
Cause I kick mo' ass than a donkey
I gotta pump but I will jump
Yous a punk or a one on one ya run to the trunk
If you're motherf*ckin fee fista shoo
I'm Willie D and I came to say, f*ck you!
f*ck you has been stated by the underground master
Show me a hacidity bitch and I'll blast her
f*ck you is what ourselves should do
And spit on ya nasty ass when I'm through
You don't like me, cause what ya see is a figure
I'm a for real ass nigga
I won't iron your clothes or pay rent at your place
There ain't a damn thing baby about my face
The whole faculty's on crack
You say I can't wear my hat, but yo, f*ck that
You call yourself teacher, but whats bein taught?
How to f*ck kids and not get caught?
How can your teacher reach ya
Their too busy in the halls tryin to f*ck the other teacher
Bushwick Bill (?some Jamaican i imagine?)
f*ck the motherf*ckin critics, f*ck newspapers
f*ck the radio stations
And f*ck your parents against rap
We buried ya f*ckin cockroaches
To every motherf*cker who diss my crew
I'm sayin f*ck you, now what you hoes wanna do?
I gotta awesome noise in my Blazer for instance
Some shit that'll shake the ground so keep ya distance
Parents confiscate my tapes
Sendin letters and shit talkin bout how they hate
The album Controversy's they're rebellin
I don't give a f*ck cause the shits still sellin
So this is how the D'll respond
I'mma cuss my ass off for your daughters and sons
And if you don't like it spouse
You can suck my dick until your lips fall off
I've had it up to here with this bullshit
To each I preach without a pulpit
Calls I don't do, nails I don't chew
Whenever I fix my mouth to say, f*ck YOU
"I Bury those cockroaches"