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Juggalo Anthem lyrics


Juggalo Anthem Lyrics (Blaze Ya Dead Homie)  
feat. Insane Clown Posse
(Violent J)
Killas kick the anthem like this
Juggalos up in this bitch, up in this bitch
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 shit
Poundin out the trunk bitch
Runnin wit a mother f kin hatchet
you haters, you suck dick was a thug, became a G
B to the L to the A, Z, E, still dead
Still don t give a f k (give a f k)
Sportin all black kahkis with the mother f kin 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 kin
Still loked out
All my dawgs from the past, dead or smoked out
Still tryin to come up on a lick for a phat ass ride
So I can drop the top, and parlay through the east side

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

(Blaze)
Bitches freeze, you aint a thug or a G or a banga
You s a studio gangsta
You aint about shit, scared to pull the trigga
That s what we call, a real bitch nigga (bitch nigga )
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 ass is what I m all about
Straight G from the clique on a paper route
Still slappin off fake bitches with the Louiville
Beat a nigga to the pavement, another bitch 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 ass deal
And got the nerve to tell a mother f ker keep it real
We see through y all fools, like cellophane on the square pack
You bite our shit, you can keep it, we don t want it back
We don t give a f k, east side for life
And if you aint got heart, don t expect to have your shit tight
There aint no room for the hoe-hearted
We give a f k where you at, or who you wit , or how you got started
F k 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 k it, no speakin your name
You re just a bitch in the game
And y all niggas gone always be the same

Chorus x8
Hammer slide
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