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Correct Some F*ckin How Lyrics
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Insane Clown Posse
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Correct Some F*ckin How
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(Violent J) Tick... Tock (x4) Bang! (Violent J) I'm like a hand grenade about to pop in seconds My therapy wicked shit on these records And I'm trying to shine when I spit this rhyme Punch you in the gut so hard I break your spine Right there, I just visionaried that shit So deep in your gut I hit your spine and cracked it What the fuck is stopping me from making that really happen? It did happen right here in my rapping You know how many bitches I fucked off this? I'm talking fine ass hoes And look at me, I ain't shit And yet super ass hotties be blowing my shit up And half the time I don't even show up We role with the hatchet like nuns role with church And to us, the hatchet means more then some merch We travel, seen the Grand Canyon 66 times Spitting wicked shit rhymes Some fucking how... [Chorus: X2] We're spitting (Live shows) We're fucking (Fine hoes) Somehow as (Time goes) How'd it all happen? (I don't know) (Violent J) I hate people I get into fights everyday It seems like everybody feel like they got something to say To a clown hater Aside I still ride plush If I ain't riding spinners I'm in a 8th street tour bus Packed clubs, England, Aussie everywhere And we ain't ever really flied over there I don't fucking know It just happened like that And plus the phat fact that we can rap bitch I roll deep, even if I go for chip dip And ain't a bitch I meet that don't sip dick Think about it clown paint, rap songs, hard work Who the fuck ever made anybody an expert? If we can do it, shit Fuck that, we did it So what the fuck is your idea bitch? Come with it Our shit paid off and we never get laid off And we never get played so we never fade off Some fucking how.... [Chorus: X2] We're spitting (Live shows) We're fucking (Fine hoes) Somehow as (Time goes) How'd it all happen? (I don't know) (Violent J) I got some woods by my house And they all mine I'm about to put a gate up around them And let loose a lion ya'll Cause it would fuck up them 3 dogs of mine And they be licking my toes When I be writing these rhymes And I'm out my fucking mind Bitches sometimes damn I just can't believe it when I be fucking them They look good enough to be up in a magazine or something With my scrubby ass humping them Back in the day you bitches never woulda even look my way Not even if I ran up in your fucking ear and yelled "HEY!!" Watching tv, it's hatchet signs in the crowd Letting every mothafucking body know that they proud How the fuck am I supposed to get used to this freshness? Half the fucking time I just front and stay breathless And fuck man somehow we get paid for this shit I bought my momma a crib and told her to quit Some fucking how... [Chorus: X2] We're spitting (Live shows) We're fucking (Fine hoes) Somehow as (Time goes) How'd it all happen? (I don't know) Some fucking how On the real though Some fucking how...
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