Fruit Punch

I guess you wanna have a mother fuckin' problem
I guess you wanna have a mother fuckin' problem
I guess you wanna have a mother fuckin' problem
I guess you wanna have a mother fuckin' problem

You want a problem so let's have some fun
Bitch, I got more guns than I'll ever have fucking puns
You're out of place, found yourself in real danger
Beat to a pulp by some (Motherfucking headbangers)

Call me a fake with your music so dull
A bat to your face makes a jam out your skull
You have no career 'cause you're just a fruit basket
I will dig you up, make a guitar out your casket

You know I'm crazy, crazy
You have no safety, safety
Just you wait 'til I find you
I'm right behind you

And then you runaway as fast as you can
Come get your punishment if you're a grown man
And then you run away after all the shit you say
I will make sure you never live another day

You know I'm crazy, crazy
You have no safety, safety
Just you wait 'til I find you
I'm right behind you

And then you runaway as fast as you can
Come get your punishment If you're a grown man
And then you run away after all the shit you say
I will make sure you never live another day

I'll beat you to a fucking pulp
Pounded into the earth
I'll beat you to a fucking pulp
Pounded into the earth
I'll beat you to a fucking pulp
Pounded into earth



Credits
Writer(s): Robert Charles Caswell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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