Love / Hate

(альбом: Krimson Creek - 2008)

Looking out across the crowd, see painted faces all around me,
Moving to that shit I'm saying, bouncing to that bass that's pounding
Y'all know my lyrics, spit that shit just like you fucking wrote it,
Never can deny a Juggalo's the one that's most devoted,
I see y'all on the streets and repping for they common scrub,
Hatchetman on window tinted, repping for that family love,
Up in the mall with my kids, y'all don't know its Dox,
Still you see the chain, the tat, a shirt, and stop to show the props,
Walking to the conoco, grab some shit befo' the show,
Parking lot of hatchet rides, I see that line of Juggalos,
It's world renown, the Faygo flying, the screams of family,
I love y'all muthafuckas y'all the ones that set my soul free.

[Chorus (x2):]
You can't hate us 'cause,
We don't give a fuck,
Bump that wicked sound,
Rock a fucking hatchet and we represent the underground.

I see some shit don't change,
Haters seem born every minute,
They see the paint, the clothes, the loathes and they don't fucking get it,
I see them lose, and read reviews, and start the loading blocks,
Bitches talking shit, got me loading for a southern rock,
I know there's a way, there's a knowing, that I fucking feel ya',
Born of murda, masses killed, they ass is fucking way familiar,
But they won't break us "Fuck The World', just like the clown saying
Rep' the hatchet, psychopathic, 'til my body's found dead,
We got to show 'em music and shit they can't take away,
We run the underground, so fuck'em what they got to say?
Just throw yo' medals up, let the hoes know where they standing,
Shit ain't 'bout no money, bitch, this shit is more than just a brand.

[Chorus 2x]

The ones that know it, feel it, keep it and they won't forget it,
This thing ain't dying, it ain't fading 'cause they just won't let it,
Y'all see the bunch of haters, I know what yo' feelin,
It was that long ago, I know that shit a bunch of dealin,
But fuck we Juggalo so they can all just go to hell,
We got the pride and love, the scrubs, so fuck'em go to hell,
Just keep them hatchets swinging, screaming, always keep it wicked,
Keep one in the chamber for them fucking hating sons of bitches.

You can't hate us 'cause,
We don't give a fuck,
Bump that wicked sound,
Rock a fucking hatchet and we represent the underground!

Rock a fucking hatchet and we represent the underground!