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You wanted the worst |
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You've got the worst |
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The one, the only |
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Limp Bizkit |
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We could've stopped (2x) |
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You wanted the best? |
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Then go get the ****in Backstreet Boys CD! |
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Cause in this house it's Limp mother****ing Bizkit! |
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Balls made of steel (2x) |
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But don't kick me in the nuts though |
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Limp Bizkit's in the house! (4x) |
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You ain't shit! Ha-ha-ha-ha... (3x) |
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You ain't shit mother****er! |
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-- "Radio Sucks" -- |
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MATT PINFIELD: |
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Hey, it's the bald man, and I'm here to tell you why the new Limp Bizkit album is so important. Thats because CD's like this one spare you from all the chart-toppin, teenie-boppin disposable happy horseshit that brings up the bile from the back of my neck. I have no time or tollerance for all the shitty, whack acts like that. I would rather piss on their CD's than put out a fire. Y'know, i'm tired of all those lame ass, tame ass, pre-fabricated, sorry excusses for singers and musicians who don't even write their own songs. What the world needs now is a musical revolution. We need some rock! We need something that has balls; we need something with substance, depth, something with soul, something with edge, some passion, some power. Shit, if its gonna be mellow, **** man, it better have something, it better mean something. I'm tellin you, you gotta hit em with something hard. You gotta stick 'em with something limp like Limp Bizkit. I'm so ****in' tired with all this shit I'm hearing on the radio. RADIO SUCKS! The same ****in' songs over and over again. All the weak ones, disposeable crap that isn't gonna matter in 3 months. It's just shit! (Fred in background: Matt... Matt) It's crap, Fred. Fred, I'm tellin you, there's nothing but shit goin on and we need some new music. |
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FRED: |
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Wha... wha... what about Limp Bizkit? |
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MATT: |
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Limp Bizkit is ****in' cool. You guys are cool; the new record's great, but **** all that other shit! I'm so SICK of all that weak shit (Fred in backgound: Matt, calm down.. wh-what's up?) that's taking up space in the charts. (Fred: Woah, Matt) **** that shit, Fred, I'm outta here! (something breaks in background) |
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FRED: |
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Fuuuck, dude... ****in' Pinfeld is pissed! Oh man, I gotta go find that bald bastard. (far off) Hey Matt... Matt! |
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-- "The Mind of Les" -- |
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LES CLAYPOOL: |
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Hit me! |
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Fire cracker |
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So there you go |
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Fifteen of your hard earned dollars, right out the window |
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Most epxensive piece of plastic Ive ever come across |
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Fifteen dollars |
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Fifteen dollars |
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On a shoddy piece of plastic |
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There is it, Limp Bizkit in all its glory |
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Fred Durst, the man, the myth, the compulsive masturbator |
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You love him, you hate him, you love to hate him |
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Hello? |
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Once when I was afraid to speak, when I was just a lad |
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My poppy gavew my nose a tweak, and told me I was bad |
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Then I learned a brilliant word, saved my aching nose |
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The biggest word, that you've ever heard, and this is how it goes |
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Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious |
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Even thought he sound of it is something quite atrocious |
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Ah, those were the days |
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I don't know |
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You got any more of that ... |
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So what did you think, you were getting a Celine Dion record? |
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No no no young bucky |
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You laughed, you cried, you just kissed your fifteen bucks goodbye |
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Limp Bizkit? I dont think so |
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Fred Durst? I dont know |
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But what the hell, I got paid |
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Goodbye now! |
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-- "Prop the DJ" (removed from final release) -- |
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Rock the house |
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DJ Lethal rock the house |
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Limp Bizkit rock the house |
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DJ Lethal rock the house |
