Blaze Ya Dead Homie Juggalo Anthem Lyrics

(Violent J)
Killas kick the anthem like this
Juggalos up in this b____, up in this b____
Killas kick the anthem like this
Juggalos up in this biiiitch, blaze

(Blaze Ya Dead Homie)
G's up, ridin' from the cradle to the casket
And beyond, recognize thug s___
Poundin' out the trunk b____
Runnin' wit' a mother f___in' hatchet
you haters, you suck d___ was a thug, became a G
B to the L to the A, Z, E, still dead
Still don't give a f___ (give a f___)
Sportin' all black kahkis with the mother f___in' cuffs up
Smokin' Hella trees, tryin' to make a couple G's
So a thug can get back on his feet
Mean muggin', steady thuggin'
And I'm tryin' to find the hoodrat's all about f___in'
Still loked out
All my dawgs from the past, dead or smoked out
Still tryin' to come up on a lick for a phat a__ ride
So I can drop the top, and parlay through the east side

Chorus(Monoxide Child)
n____s kick the anthem like this
Juggalos up in this b____, up in this b____! x 4

(Blaze)
b____es freeze, you aint a thug or a G or a banga'
You's a studio gangsta
You aint about s___, scared to pull the trigga'
That's what we call, a real b____ n____' (b____ n____')
Sneekin' through the hood, throwin' up a set
Hangin' out the window, yellin' idol threats

Check this out, I'm a check your chin
Close your mouth, 'fore I put the barrel in
Dumpin' clips in yo a__ is what I'm all about
Straight G from the clique on a paper route
Still slappin' off fake b____es with the Louiville
Beat a n____' to the pavement, another b____ killed

Chorus(Monoxide Child)

(Jaime Madrox)
This is the battle for the planets
We bring the thunder, givin' half the advantage
F**k a style and a status
Half of y'all hummin' off a half a__ deal
And got the nerve to tell a mother f___er 'keep it real'
We see through y'all fools, like
cellophane on the square pack
You bite our s___, you can keep it, we don't want it back
We don't give a f___, east side for life
And if you aint got heart, don't
expect to have your s___ tight
There aint no room for the hoe-hearted
We give a f___ where you at, or who you
wit', or how you got started
f___ you and everybody in yo clique
If you don't run wit' a hatchet, or claim the Psychopathic
I aint got time, to say no names
It's only 8 rhymes, no holla', we been in the game
Besides f___ it, no speakin your name
You're just a b____ in the game
And y'all n____s gone' always be the same

Chorus x8
*Hammer slide*