A Bottle Of Jack's Got My Manager Grinnin'

Yeah That's Me That Keeps The Turntables SpinniN'

I'm Countin Cards And I Keep On Winnin'

I Know God Hates Me Cuz I'm Always Sinnin'

U Don't Know Me Blow Me Ho You Wanna Get Hot

You'll Get Your Ass Blown Out Fuckin With The Kid Rock

Eatin Up Ya Suckers Just The Same Way A Beast Could

Tearin Thru Your Town Like Muther Fuckin Clint Eastwood

Cuz I Be Fakin The Rhymes That Keep Ya Shakin'

Makin A Lotta Money But Don't Let Me Be Mistaken

I Never Thought About Climbin Up The Pop Chart

And I Don't Give A Fuck U Can't Buy My Tape In K-Mart

Give Me A Choice Between Soundin Like An Ass Wipe

Or Sittin In An Alley Smokin Crack From A Glass Pipe

I'd Be As Skinny As A Junkie With The AIDS Plague

But Still I'd Look Better Than A Puppet Tryin To Get Paid

Now Check The Rhyme As I Climb And I Co Get Rude

And Send Ya Runnin' Playin' Pussy Like Shaggy And Scoob

Cuz I'm The Wrong Dude To Fuck With My Mouth Is Mental

And I'm A Tear Shit Up Like They Did In South Central

Son Of A Bitch I'm The Son Of A Bitch

Nobody Ever Loved U So You're The Son Of A Dick

I'm A Product Of A Young Girl Top In Her Class

You're A Product Of A Hooker Who Was Sellin That Ass

And Your Styles In The Past It's Old And Dusty

So From Now On I'm Callin U M.C. Crusty

Cuz To Face Me U Must Be Blitzed Or Blasted

So Now I'm Gonna Drop Ya Like A Hit Of Acid

And When I Rip Ya People They Might Stare

Cuz I Got More Rhymes Than Donahue's Got White Hair

An Yo Buck Won't You Please Be A Friend

And Tell Your Mom I Wanna Fuck And I'll Pick Her Up At 10