All In The Family Lyrics

All In The Family

Fred: Say what, say what?
Jon: My dick is bigger than yours...
Fred: Say
what, say what?
Jon: My band is bigger than yours...
Fred: Too bad I got
your beans in my bag, stuck-up sucka', Korny
motherfucka'. Takin' over foes
is the Limp pimp, need a Bizkit to save
this crew from Jon Davis. I'm gonna
drop a little east side skill, ya best
step back 'cuz I'm 'a kill, I'm 'a
kill. So watcha thinking Mr. Raggedy man?
Doin' all you can to look like
Raggedy Ann.
Jon: I'll Check you out punk, yes I know you feel it. You look
like
one of those dancers from the Hanson video, you little faggot
ho.
Please give me some shit to wreck with, 'cuz right now I'm all
wicked,
suck my dick kid, like your daddy did.
Fred: Who the fuck you
think you're talking to??
Jon: Me.
Fred: I'm known for eatin' little
whiny chumps like you.
Jon: Whatever.
Fred: All up in my face with
that...
Jon: Are you ready?!?
Fred: But halitosis, is all you're rockin'
steady. You little fairy,
smelling all your flowers. Nappy hairy chest, look
it's Austin Powers!
Jon: Yeah, baby!
Fred: I hear ya tootin' on them
bagpipes clad, but you said it best,
there's No Place To Hide.
Jon: What
the fuck ya' sayin'? You're a pimp whateva', limp dick. Fred
Durst needs to
rehearse, needs to reverse what he's saying. Wanna be
funkdoobiest when
you're playin', rippin' up a bad counterfeit,
fakin'! Plus your bills
I'm
paying, you can't eat that shit every day, Fred.
Jon: Lay off the
bacon
Fred: Say what, say what? You better watch your fuckin' mouth,
Jon.
CHORUS:
Jon: So you hate me?
Fred: and I hate you!
Jon: You
know what, you know what?
Both: It's all in the family.
Jon: I hate
you!
Fred: and you hate me!
Jon: You know what, you know what?
Both:
It's all in the family.
Jon: Look at you fool, I'm gonna fuck you up twice,
throwin' rhymes at me
like, oh shit alright, Vanilla Ice. Ya better run, run
while ya can,
you'll never fuck me up, Bisc Limpkit. At least I got a phat,
original band.
Fred: Who's hot, who's not?
Jon: You.
Fred: You best
step back, Korn on the cob, you need a new job. Time to
take them mic skills
back to the dentist, and buy yourself a new grill.
Jon: Fuck you.
Fred:
You pumpkin pie, I'll jack-off in your eye. Climbing shoots and
ladders,
while your ego shatters. But you just can't get away.
Jon: Get a
gay?
Fred: 'Cuz it's doomsday kid, it's doomsday.
CHORUS
Fred: You
call yourself a singer?
Jon: Yep.
Fred: You're more like Jerry
Springer.
Jon: Oh cool!
Fred: Your favorite band is winger,
Jon:
Winger?
Fred: and all you eat is Zingers. You're like a Fruity Pebble,
your
favorite flag is rebel.
Jon: Yeeeeeehaaaaaa!!
Fred: It's just too
bad that you're a faggot on a lower level.
Jon: So you're from Jacksonville,
kickin' it like Buffalo Bill.
Gettin' butt-fucked by your uncle Chuck, while
your sister's on her knees waitin' for your
little peanut.
Fred: Wait,
where'd ya get that little dance?
Jon: Over here.
Fred: Like them idiots
in Waco, you're burning up in Bako where your father
had your mother, your
mother had your brother, it's just too bad your
father's mad, your mother's
now your lover.
Jon: Come on hillbilly, can your horse do a fuckin' wheelie?
You love it down
south in the fall, you sure do got a purdy
mouth.
CHORUS
Jon: and I love you!
Fred: and I want you!
Jon: and
I'll suck you!
Fred: and I'll fuck you!
Jon: and I'll butt-fuck
you!
Fred: and I'll eat you!
Jon: and I'll lick your little dick,
motherfucka'.
Fred: Say what? Say... what?