Jump out the speakers and cold fuck you up
Now in 1991 I took a little trip
Along with Swayzack
Down the mighty Mississip
I took a lot of blunts
We took a lot of weed
We chased them Nazis
To the town of New Orleans
We fired our guns
But them Nazis kept a-comin
Popped in the clip
Then we started to unload
We fired our guns
Then the punks started runnin
Down the Mississippi
To the Gulf of Mexico
Tell y'all bros
Fuck the colds I got the flows to break ya nose
Act like ya knows
Throwin lyrics like blows
From a heavyweight contender
Mix my styles in a blender
Never I surrender
Fuck that Love Me Tender
It's Mutiny on the Bounty
So just call me Captain Bligh
I know you wanna step
But you too shy, shy, hush hush
Before I bust you in your eye
You little punk
Now let's talk representin
Standin on a corner
Rhymin with some tec'in
You only need a gun
If you can kill a politician
Or some Nazi Klan fuck
That needs a buck, buck
Keep talkin constipated
Watch your shit get stuck
Up your butt
The influx, it ain't enough
Chillin at my crib
But my crib is kinda rough
So someone mistook me
For somethin that I wasn't
Some uneducated brother
Smokin on a prism
You rollin like a tank
Reachin for a shank
You Nazi punk bitch
Walk the motherfuckin plank
Jump out the speakers and cold fuck you up
Word to Chico
Got chased down to Puerto Rico
Started takin Nazis out
Like my name was Nico
It's the truth G
They tryin to get me in the mutiny
Now every Nazi in the town
Tryin to shoot me
No scrutiny, no time to think
One time they even
Threw the fucking kitchen sink
On the brink
Or should I say point blank
This way or that way
Everybody's on the take
So fuck it
I ain't tryin to kick the bucket
By the hands of a Nazi or Klansman
Unleashed, like man's best beast
Or friend, that gets five and takes ten
Then again, minorities should self-defend
So you pretend that
You're bendin over backwards
When in reality
You're all a bunch of actors
So the facts, they stay in our favor
Now we savor the flavor
Of the weavers of fans
But baby you can keep your fuckin food stamps
Jump out the speakers and cold fuck you up
Hey children, what's that sound?
Just a Nazi punk gettin beat down
Just some clown who felt
Like a Mounds bar
Now I've got nuts in the trunk of my car
And we ain't too far away
From the cop spot
Dust em in the parking lot
Two bucks in the chop shop
Plop plop fizz fizz, here comes the buzz
Ain't a damn thing changed
Ain't that the name of the song, cuz?
So I bust up the block like Speed Racer
Good cop, bad cop, tryin to give chase
But this is no waste
Cuz I lose them all the next time
Runnin out of gas, baby no time to work
But I don't squirm, I just hurry hurry up
Drop the load
And watch the ride explode
So let it be told
When you drink your next 40
No pig shot, no story
No Goats, no glory
Jump out the speakers and cold fuck you up