Текст песни(слова) Limp Bizkit - All in the family lyrics

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Fred: Say what, say what?
Jon: My d*ck is bigger than yours...
Fred: Say what, say what?
Jon: My band is bigger than yours...

Fred: Too bad I got your beans in my bag, stuck-up s*cka'
Korny motherf*cka'. Takin' over flows is the Limp pimp, need a
Bizkit to save this crew from Jon Davis
I'm gonna drop a little east side skill, ya best step back 'cuz

I'm 'a kill, I'm 'a kill. So watcha thinking Mr. Raggedy man?
Doin' all you can to look like Raggedy Ann
Jon: I'll Check you out punk, yes I know you feel it
You look like one of those dancers from the Hanson video, you little faggot ho

Please give me some shit to work with, 'cuz right now
I'm all it kid, s*ck my d*ck kid, like your daddy did
Fred: Who the f*ck you think you're talking to?
Jon: Me

Fred: I'm known for eatin' little whiny chumps like you
Jon: Whatever
Fred: All up in my face with that...
Jon: Are you ready?!?

Fred: But halitosis, is all you're rockin' steady
You little fairy, smelling all your flowers
Nappy hairy chest, look it's Austin Powers!
Jon: Yeah, baby!

Fred: I hear ya tweetin' on them fag-pipes clod
But you said it best, there's No Place To Hide
Jon: What the f*ck ya' sayin'? You're a pimp whateva', limp d*ck
Fred Durst needs to rehearse, needs to reverse what he's saying

Wannabe funk joke is what you're playin', rippin' up a bad counterfeit, fakin'
Plus your bills I'm paying, you can't eat that shit every day, Fred. Lay off the bacon
Fred: Say what, say what? You better watch your fuckin' mouth, Jon

CHORUS:
Jon: So you hate me?
Fred: and I hate you!
Jon: You know what, you know what?
Both: It's all in the family

Jon: I hate you!
Fred: and you hate me!
Jon: You know what, you know what?
Both: It's all in the family

Jon: Look at you fool, I'm gonna f*ck you up twice, throwin' rhymes at me like
Oh sh*t, Vanilla Ice. Ya better run, run while ya can, you'll never f*ck me up, Bisc Limpkit
At least I got a phat, original band
Fred: Who's hot, who's not

Jon: You
Fred: You best step back, Korn on the cob, you need a new job
Time to take them mic skills back to the dentist, and buy yourself a new grill
Jon: F*ck you
Fred: You pumpkin pie, I'll jack-off in your eye

Climbing shoots and ladders, while your ego shatters
But you just can't get away
Jon: Get a gay?
Fred: 'Cuz it's doomsday kid, it's doomsday

CHORUS
Fred: You call yourself a singer?
Jon: Yep
Fred: You're more like Jerry Springer
Jon: Oh cool!

Fred: Your favorite band is winger
Jon: Winger?
Fred: and all you eat is Zingers
You're like a Fruity Pebble, your favorite flag is rebel.