lirik lagu pest in riss – mr 8 legz
[intro: whipstick, 8 legz]
hey legz, can i be on it? can i be on it? can i be on it?
can i be on it? can i be on it? can i be on it? can i be on it?
do it! just f*cking shut the f*ck up!
can i be on it? can i be on it? can i be on it? can i be on it?
fine! fine, dude, fine
you said i could be on it? i can be on it? i can be on it?
you can be on the f*cking album
oh my god! yay! oh my god! woo!
i get to go first, though
no, wait, hold on*
[verse 1: 8 legz]
reunited, and it f*ckin’ sucks
so god d*mn hard i could probably bust this nut
who gives a f*ck anyways?
it’s fun time gang, we back in the building
show up at your birthday smacking children
hit ’em in the worst ways, smash their feelings (b*tch)
but for real, we came to k!ll, what, you think i’m teasin’?
like i just showed up with this machete for no rеason?
like i don’t wanna stab every mothеrf*ckin’ body in this venue
send you to demons
really all i wanna do is make sure everybody here gets cake
and leaves here bleedin’, look
look at the mental state that he’s in
i’m in, f*ck! [?]
hymens pop so you better get a mop
and wipe it [?] like it? [?]
here’s how it goes, it’s whipstick, dubbs and 8 legz
stick d*ck hole in your lame face
leavin’ more nut in your gut than a box of paydays
s double f t g, you so repetitious
maybe it’s just my intuition
but there’s my kitchen, go do my dishes
shut the f*ck up, i’m watching smackdown
[?] go mind your bidness
oh, by the way, i just wanna say
you ain’t ready for white background, b*tches
[chorus]
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ sh*t
all you do is talk, you’s a fraud, there’s no disputin’ it
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ this
yo, what is that? havin’ fun while doin’ it, you stupid b*tch
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ sh*t (nah)
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ this
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ sh*t
shut it down, go k!ll yourself, go straight to h*ll and rest in p*ss
[verse 2: whipstick]
well hey, best friend, ha ha, we’re back together (alright)
i’m livin’ comfortable, (i’ve got) my fattest sweater (yes)
the baddest ever never finish sh*t in last place
the masked face in a fast pace
steady servin’ you up with a bad steak
straight through the heart of darkness, i’m feelin’ sorta nauceous
i’ve never thought the [?] stalkin’ targets [?]
[?] not my problem (call the b*tch like) [?]
[?] windpipe [?]
okay, that’s kinda morbid
like [?] abortion
got a [?]
[?]
and i mean p*ssy, you f*cking hear me, bro?
[?] to me [?] stereo
snap your f*cking neck back [?]
chase you down no jet lag here to [?]
[?] here we go
sacrificial slaughter sheep, a ceremony glory hole
[chorus]
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ sh*t
all you do is talk, you’s a fraud, there’s no disputin’ it
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ this
yo, what is that? havin’ fun while doin’ it, you stupid b*tch
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ sh*t (nah)
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ this
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ sh*t
shut it down, go k!ll yourself, go straight to h*ll and rest in p*ss
[interlude: dubbs, whipstick, 8 legz]
i’m dubbs, check it, i’m*
yeah, f*ck him! he’s fat!
oh, word, it’s like that, huh?
god d*mn it
just, i’m about to rap my sh*t, and you just f*ckin’
*laughing*
yo, somebody ask this motherf*cker how many times he’s in my inbox, like, yo, dubbs, what f*ckin’ rhymes with blue waffles, dog?
*laughing* did i strike a nerve, you fat f*ck?
shut the f*ck up!
i’m not doing this f*cking song, f*ck both you guys
what the f*ck, man? no, look, it’s fun time gang, it’s on*
this motherf*cker’s always talking about i’m fat, like
i f*cking know
i’m just cuddly
come on, eight bars, dude, please?
ugh, fine
yo, whipstick likes d*ck in his b*tt like all day long
pull your wiener our and he will put his mouth on all that shlong
i mean, can i get some effort into it?
no
what the f*ck?
f*ck him
i get it, i agree, man, but what*
you know, legz, i’m actually really disappointed in you that you didn’t come up with the idea to do like a brandon lee thing at the f*cking [?]
dude, i’ve been on that sh*t!
whoa, word, why don’t you tell him how you really feel?
whip, shut up
tell you how i really feel?
yeah!
no!
how i really feel is that i didn’t wanna write this f*ckin’ verse
and legz wants to put his album out like f*cking tomorrow
[chorus]
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ sh*t
all you do is talk, you’s a fraud, there’s no disputin’ it
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ this
yo, what is that? havin’ fun while doin’ it, you stupid b*tch
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ sh*t (nah)
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ this
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what you do, and you ain’t doin’ sh*t
shut it down, go k!ll yourself, go straight to h*ll and rest in p*ss
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