| Song | Bussyoheadopen |
| Artist | Twiztid |
| Album | Independent's Day |
| 作曲 : Blaze Ya Dead Homie ... | |
| E town with it, turn to the back | |
| With that east side repping ready for the attack | |
| Checking all the tires, all white and black | |
| With the black | |
| Twiztid embroidered on the back | |
| Guess who's back, yep, it's the tray side | |
| And we put it down for life and ready to ride | |
| Madrox and | |
| Monoxide, you ain't heard | |
| Got people who were all anticipating our return | |
| With everywhere you look, it ain't looking good not at all | |
| And everybody looking is waiting for you to fall | |
| Now we design and dominate that's just mans natural instinct | |
| And put it on the line like reputations and pink slips | |
| We got the music, let it do what it do | |
| And this stress carrying the world, we gonna carry that too | |
| We gonna bury them fools and the rest in a cloak | |
| At night we gonna strike like black parasites[Chorus: x2] | |
| Now don't y'all, not for one second | |
| Think I won't just | |
| BUST YO' H | |
| EAD OPENGive me a reason to leave you breathing | |
| That's a point blank message to all the non-believers[Verse 2: Monoxide Child] | |
| O six Caddy, brand new daddy | |
| Twenty eight grams in twenty little baggies | |
| Got a little something in the back of my jacket | |
| Cause I'm always getting threats they wanting to kidnap me | |
| Flames still burning and the hatred's back | |
| I got the chainsaw revving and bloodstains to match | |
| I got you nervous like a reverend who got caught in the act | |
| And you react like you did when he got whacked with the ax | |
| Underestimated and medicated | |
| I'm only handed this psycho game from the people who never made it | |
| I'll be dead if | |
| I bow out now | |
| JackI represent a portion of people who on the real they won't allow that | |
| They got us tatted on their neck, breast, chest and head | |
| And undress the dead, enough said | |
| We got a mark on your planet earth | |
| You got a rack full of bootlegged shirts, the truth hurts[Chorus x2][Verse 3: Blaze Ya Dead Homie] | |
| You've awoke the sleeping giant, all this psycho lying | |
| Your sawed off blasts leave all your mama's crying | |
| At the wake, ready to bake everybody in the front row | |
| My aim is to put your relatives in a hole | |
| Laying next to you stretched out in one big plot | |
| The blood clots all over your head like polka dots | |
| No gun shots | |
| I did it all with my | |
| Louisville slugger | |
| Another notch added every time | |
| I beat a mother fucker | |
| Stomp a mother fucker, drag they bodies in their back yards | |
| Chop heads and hands off of the corpse | |
| The identity, | |
| I ain't trying to see no time | |
| It's on, I scatter ashes where the sun don't shine | |
| And I do dirt with only close people of mine | |
| Cause they real while you phony snitches out there dropping dimes | |
| So give me one reason to get me to squeezing on another | |
| And I'm a haul out and start cracking mother fuckers[Chorus] |
| zuò qǔ : Blaze Ya Dead Homie ... | |
| E town with it, turn to the back | |
| With that east side repping ready for the attack | |
| Checking all the tires, all white and black | |
| With the black | |
| Twiztid embroidered on the back | |
| Guess who' s back, yep, it' s the tray side | |
| And we put it down for life and ready to ride | |
| Madrox and | |
| Monoxide, you ain' t heard | |
| Got people who were all anticipating our return | |
| With everywhere you look, it ain' t looking good not at all | |
| And everybody looking is waiting for you to fall | |
| Now we design and dominate that' s just mans natural instinct | |
| And put it on the line like reputations and pink slips | |
| We got the music, let it do what it do | |
| And this stress carrying the world, we gonna carry that too | |
| We gonna bury them fools and the rest in a cloak | |
| At night we gonna strike like black parasites Chorus: x2 | |
| Now don' t y' all, not for one second | |
| Think I won' t just | |
| BUST YO' H | |
| EAD OPENGive me a reason to leave you breathing | |
| That' s a point blank message to all the nonbelievers Verse 2: Monoxide Child | |
| O six Caddy, brand new daddy | |
| Twenty eight grams in twenty little baggies | |
| Got a little something in the back of my jacket | |
| Cause I' m always getting threats they wanting to kidnap me | |
| Flames still burning and the hatred' s back | |
| I got the chainsaw revving and bloodstains to match | |
| I got you nervous like a reverend who got caught in the act | |
| And you react like you did when he got whacked with the ax | |
| Underestimated and medicated | |
| I' m only handed this psycho game from the people who never made it | |
| I' ll be dead if | |
| I bow out now | |
| JackI represent a portion of people who on the real they won' t allow that | |
| They got us tatted on their neck, breast, chest and head | |
| And undress the dead, enough said | |
| We got a mark on your planet earth | |
| You got a rack full of bootlegged shirts, the truth hurts Chorus x2 Verse 3: Blaze Ya Dead Homie | |
| You' ve awoke the sleeping giant, all this psycho lying | |
| Your sawed off blasts leave all your mama' s crying | |
| At the wake, ready to bake everybody in the front row | |
| My aim is to put your relatives in a hole | |
| Laying next to you stretched out in one big plot | |
| The blood clots all over your head like polka dots | |
| No gun shots | |
| I did it all with my | |
| Louisville slugger | |
| Another notch added every time | |
| I beat a mother fucker | |
| Stomp a mother fucker, drag they bodies in their back yards | |
| Chop heads and hands off of the corpse | |
| The identity, | |
| I ain' t trying to see no time | |
| It' s on, I scatter ashes where the sun don' t shine | |
| And I do dirt with only close people of mine | |
| Cause they real while you phony snitches out there dropping dimes | |
| So give me one reason to get me to squeezing on another | |
| And I' m a haul out and start cracking mother fuckers Chorus |