CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : HFK vs Jack Shitt
Jack Sh*tt called my phone the other day like, "This new girl that I'm seeing is so beautiful."
I'm like, "No, she's got an Addam's apple and I saw her peeing at a urinal."
Now your sh*t is off beat
You better chill at the 'f**k off' tree
And he came and gave me a long hug when he saw me
I'm like, "Get the f**k off me!"
I'm like, "yo, let's go hit the models, find a b*t*h who swallow
Are you down for this sh*t tomorrow?"
He's like, "Nah, I'm chilling with the guys and playing spin the bottle."
I give you lyrical pain, you amateur
'Cause you are one of the lamеst challengers
And uh, Jack Sh*tt's dressеd like a Persian who just came to Canada
So I guess that means that this guy is a FOB
And you should really quit rhyming, dog
And will somebody please go out there and find a job for Silent Bob
Your mom is one ugly a** c**t, but I still groped her a** and f**ked her
And I still can't believe I'm here battling a f**king yoga cla** instructor
And look man, I've always been told that the real should rap fly
And who the f**k are you supposed to be, Feel Good's rabbi?
You're a f**king queer
Who can't even chug a beer
Sitting at home watching The Wonder Years
And after every two bars he has to touch his beard
You are not a hero
And how could you act like you're not a weirdo
And your rap is so boring that I'd rather sit down and watch your beard grow
Now story always gets me a good laugh
'Cause his wife left him and took half
She took away his home, his car, and his boat, what a mean a** b*t*h
And he's like, "Are you gonna take away my rhyme book too?"
She's like, "No, you can keep that sh*t."
You got hot breath, boy, I think you need a Tic Tac, Jack
And put on a rasta hat, what do we have?
The man on the Zig-Zag pack
Now lay back and listen
All your lame raps are bitten
And you shouldn't battle 'til we have a King of the Dot, caveman division
Jack was gonna go to jail, and I'm like, "That's terrible, you're gonna get raped by big fat dudes, with tattoos."
And he's like, "Damn dude. How the f**k is that bad news?"
I'm, I'm about to kick this man in the back
'Cause I'm sick and tired of his faggity crap
And will somebody get Rells here and tell him that this battle is a wrappity wrap
Well, that was terrible
But you should quit rapping and start an emo band
And f**k Brendan Frasier, he could've won an Oscar playing Encino Man
He's mad wack, I'm a genius
My damn raps are the meanest
And you look like Moses, but you magically open your a** crack for a p*n*s
You like giving mad dough to d**kless man hoe just to lick his a**hole?
And I really can't show that he's Vincent van Gogh mixed with Fidel Castro
This man is just my fan
Embarra**ing this maggot is my plan
And you'll never dare walk in my country, 'cause we execute faggots in Iran
I never expected your rhymes to be this wack
But I like your mother, she irons my shirts and even lines up my chin strap
F**k you d**k mouth, I hope you croak and your world ends
And growing up, he found sports too violent, so he skipped rope with his girlfriend
I'm so nutty
Leave your mom's c**t so bloody
And who's wacker than Jack Sh*tt?
Nobody!
Why don't you go find Nick Nolte, and tell him you wanna lick his d**k slowly
And I came all the way here tonight to find out that Mick Foley, has a little thing for me
Battling me, you just walked in a land of evil
Big beard, smells like sh*t, doesn't he look like he's been camping, people?
Now I think that Jack has lost
I don't think that Jack's a boss
And he's still happy, I'm like, "why?"
He's like "'cause Rachel's back with Ross!"
Now let me ask you a question, since when did you become a fiend, Jesus?
And you should quit rapping and go back to acting, Joaquin Phoenix
And yeah I'm overweight, it's 'cause I enjoy the biggest of burgers
But you went to a plastic surgeon
He's like, "Hey now, Jack, I am not a miracle worker"
And check it, yo
F**k it, bruh
I don't wanna hear this wack kid's damn rhymes
And check it out, Kaliente, this is Jack Sh*tt's gang sign (limp wrist arm gesture)
So why don't you grab your faggot friend
And go back to St. Catharines
And never come back again... Jacqueline
You'll hurt in many ways, 'cause you're gay and wack with rhymes
And his parents go to church every day, just to pray for Jack to die
I'm like, "No, she's got an Addam's apple and I saw her peeing at a urinal."
Now your sh*t is off beat
You better chill at the 'f**k off' tree
And he came and gave me a long hug when he saw me
I'm like, "Get the f**k off me!"
I'm like, "yo, let's go hit the models, find a b*t*h who swallow
Are you down for this sh*t tomorrow?"
He's like, "Nah, I'm chilling with the guys and playing spin the bottle."
I give you lyrical pain, you amateur
'Cause you are one of the lamеst challengers
And uh, Jack Sh*tt's dressеd like a Persian who just came to Canada
So I guess that means that this guy is a FOB
And you should really quit rhyming, dog
And will somebody please go out there and find a job for Silent Bob
Your mom is one ugly a** c**t, but I still groped her a** and f**ked her
And I still can't believe I'm here battling a f**king yoga cla** instructor
And look man, I've always been told that the real should rap fly
And who the f**k are you supposed to be, Feel Good's rabbi?
You're a f**king queer
Who can't even chug a beer
Sitting at home watching The Wonder Years
And after every two bars he has to touch his beard
You are not a hero
And how could you act like you're not a weirdo
And your rap is so boring that I'd rather sit down and watch your beard grow
Now story always gets me a good laugh
'Cause his wife left him and took half
She took away his home, his car, and his boat, what a mean a** b*t*h
And he's like, "Are you gonna take away my rhyme book too?"
She's like, "No, you can keep that sh*t."
You got hot breath, boy, I think you need a Tic Tac, Jack
And put on a rasta hat, what do we have?
The man on the Zig-Zag pack
Now lay back and listen
All your lame raps are bitten
And you shouldn't battle 'til we have a King of the Dot, caveman division
Jack was gonna go to jail, and I'm like, "That's terrible, you're gonna get raped by big fat dudes, with tattoos."
And he's like, "Damn dude. How the f**k is that bad news?"
I'm, I'm about to kick this man in the back
'Cause I'm sick and tired of his faggity crap
And will somebody get Rells here and tell him that this battle is a wrappity wrap
Well, that was terrible
But you should quit rapping and start an emo band
And f**k Brendan Frasier, he could've won an Oscar playing Encino Man
He's mad wack, I'm a genius
My damn raps are the meanest
And you look like Moses, but you magically open your a** crack for a p*n*s
You like giving mad dough to d**kless man hoe just to lick his a**hole?
And I really can't show that he's Vincent van Gogh mixed with Fidel Castro
This man is just my fan
Embarra**ing this maggot is my plan
And you'll never dare walk in my country, 'cause we execute faggots in Iran
I never expected your rhymes to be this wack
But I like your mother, she irons my shirts and even lines up my chin strap
F**k you d**k mouth, I hope you croak and your world ends
And growing up, he found sports too violent, so he skipped rope with his girlfriend
I'm so nutty
Leave your mom's c**t so bloody
And who's wacker than Jack Sh*tt?
Nobody!
Why don't you go find Nick Nolte, and tell him you wanna lick his d**k slowly
And I came all the way here tonight to find out that Mick Foley, has a little thing for me
Battling me, you just walked in a land of evil
Big beard, smells like sh*t, doesn't he look like he's been camping, people?
Now I think that Jack has lost
I don't think that Jack's a boss
And he's still happy, I'm like, "why?"
He's like "'cause Rachel's back with Ross!"
Now let me ask you a question, since when did you become a fiend, Jesus?
And you should quit rapping and go back to acting, Joaquin Phoenix
And yeah I'm overweight, it's 'cause I enjoy the biggest of burgers
But you went to a plastic surgeon
He's like, "Hey now, Jack, I am not a miracle worker"
And check it, yo
F**k it, bruh
I don't wanna hear this wack kid's damn rhymes
And check it out, Kaliente, this is Jack Sh*tt's gang sign (limp wrist arm gesture)
So why don't you grab your faggot friend
And go back to St. Catharines
And never come back again... Jacqueline
You'll hurt in many ways, 'cause you're gay and wack with rhymes
And his parents go to church every day, just to pray for Jack to die
