f*ck ’Em lyrics

[Chorus]
f*ck— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck 'em all (I bury those c*ckroaches)
f*ck— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck 'em all
What'd they ever do for us? (I bury those c*ckroaches)
Hey— Hey— Hey, f*ck you, man

[Verse 1: Willie D, Scarface & Bushwick Bill]
I got a bone to pick 'cause I'm sick
Of you motherf*ckers talkin' sh*t
We put you up, you put us down and I'm mad
Time to talk about your dog ass
Jealous motherf*ckers, it seems, wanna try the AK
How do you do 'em? f*ck 'em up like a cardiac
So if you're curious, get a blood donor
'Cause I'ma f*ck you up so bad, that your mama won't know ya
I pity the fool who diss the mastermind of wreckin' sh*t
Now let me tell you somethin', b*tch
Get yourself a headstone, a plot and some pine
'Cause when I catch up with you, your ass is mine
The line is drawn, word is born
The motherf*ckers who crossed it are dead and gone
Punk motherf*ckers, go suck a di*k
Bushwick (Yo, money), what you think about this bullsh*t?
f*ck those unknown motherf*ckers
With a ten-foot pole, they can't touch us
Before the Geto Boys came around
You can't front on it, clown, H-town was no town
Yeah, we know you're still skeptic
'Cause we ain't kissin' no goddamn ass to be accepted
And if you're waitin' on that to happen, sucka
You'll be a waitin' motherf*cker
sh*t outta luck, stuck and got f*cked
Thumbs up to those who down with us
For you other motherf*ckers in the atmosphere
I'm sayin' f*ck you loud and clear
[Chorus]
f*ck 'em all— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck—
f*ck 'em all (I bury those c*ckroaches)
f*ck— f*ck 'em all— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck— f*ck—
f*ck 'em all (What'd they ever do for us?)
Street gangsterism is going to remain a threat to our nation
Hey, f*ck you, man

[Verse 2: Bushwick Bill, Willie D]
Radio, newspapers, TVs
Spreadin' lies across the seven seas
Many people thought we couldn't endure
n*ggas are buyin' it, now they ain't so sure
Billboard has us, check out our status
I don't understand you hoes, what's the matter?
The motherf*ckers are sick
Constipated, cold full of sh*t
They tried to keep us off the market
Straight up ho sh*t, they had to stock it
My back don't pack no monkeys
'Cause I kick more ass than a donkey
I got a pump, but I will jump
You's a punk, on a one-on-one, you'll run to the trunk
If you're motherf*ckin' feet fits the shoe
I'm Willie D and I came to say f*ck you
Hey— Hey— Hey— f*ck you, man
f*ck you has been stated by the underground master
Show me a high-sadiddy b*tch and I'll thrash her
f*ck you is what I'm sets to do
And spit on your nasty ass when I'm through
You don't like me 'cause what you see is a figure
Of a for real-ass n*gga
I won't iron your clothes or pay rent at your place
'Cause ain't a damn thing baby about my face
The whole faculty's on crack
You say I can't wear my hat, but yo, f*ck that
You call yourself teacher, but what's bein' taught
How to f*ck kids and not get caught?
How can your teacher reach you?
They're too busy in the halls tryin' to f*ck the other teacher
Bushwick Bill a true vulture my, mon
Rasta chat, f*ck unuh, understand?
[Interlude: Ready Red]
f*ck the motherf*ckin' critics
f*ck newspapers, f*ck the radio stations
And f*ck your parents against rap
We buried y'all f*ckin' c*ckroaches
f*ck— f*ck 'em all

[Verse 3: Willie D]
To every motherf*cker who diss my crew
I'm sayin f*ck you, now what you hoes wanna do?
I got an arsenal in my Blazer, for instance
Some sh*t that'll shake the ground, so keep your distance
Parents confiscatin' my tapes
Sendin' letters and sh*t talkin' 'bout how they hate
The album Controversy, they're rebellin'
I don't give a f*ck 'cause the sh*t still sellin'
So this is how the D'll respond
I'ma cuss my ass off for your daughters and sons
And if you don't like it, spouse
You can suck my di*k until your lips fall off
I've had it up to here with this bullsh*t
To each I preach without a pulpit
Pause, I don't do, nails I don't chew
Whenever I fix my mouth to say f*ck you

[Outro]
I bury those c*ckroaches