Insane Clown Posse - Some F*ckin How lyrics

(Violent J) Tick...Tock (x4) BANG! (Violent J) I'm like a hand grenade about to pop in seconds My therapy wicked sh** 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 sh** So deep in your gut I hit your spine and cracked it What the f** is stopping me from making that really happen? It did happen right here in my rapping You know how many b**hes I f**ed off this? I'm talking fine a** hoes And look at me, I ain't sh** And yet super a** hotties be blowing my sh** 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 sh** rhymes Some f**ing how... (Chorus x2) We're spitting (Live shows) We're f**ing (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 f**ing know It just happened like that And plus the phat fact that we can rap b**h I roll deep, even if I go for chip dip And ain't a b**h I meet that don't sip dick Think about it clown paint, rap songs, hard work Who the f** ever made anybody an expert? If we can do it, sh** f** that, we did it So what the f** is your idea b**h? Come with it Our sh** paid off and we never get laid off And we never get played so we never fade off Some f**ing how.... (Chorus x2) We're spitting (Live shows) We're f**ing (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 f** up them 3 dogs of mine And they be licking my toes When I be writing these rhymes And I'm out my f**ing mind b**hes sometimes damn I just can't believe it when I be f**ing them They look good enough to be up in a magazine or something With my scrubby a** humping them Back in the day you b**hes never woulda even look my way Not even if I ran up in your f**ing ear and yelled "HEY!!" Watching TV, it's hatchet signs in the crowd Letting every mothaf**ing body know that they proud How the f** am I supposed to get used to this freshness? Half the f**ing time I just front and stay breathless And f** man somehow we get paid for this sh** I bought my momma a crib and told her to quit Some f**ing how... (Chorus x2) We're spitting (Live shows) We're f**ing (Fine hoes) Somehow as (Time goes) How'd it all happen? (I don't know) Some f**ing how On the real though Some f**ing how...