SciCo Screwjob

Lyrics

[Intro] If you're down with the Evil let me hear you say "What?" Yeah, you know what? Kiss my ass [Verse 1: Billy Obey] Champ forever and a day, nah, I ain't countin' I hit a blunt to the face and I'm high as Space Mountain Jump off the edge, rest in peace I'm back from the dead gettin' tombstoned, bet On wax, we a threat from the top, your heart drop At my rock bottom shot two marks (I got my family!) I do what it do I mean, they said it was a shoot interview, ha ha ha The Super Famous Fun Time Guys, it's sick When my young guns buck, you feel a super kick On my lucha shit, you know that Billy be puffin' a bag of reefer Put 'em down with a dragon sleeper You stoppin' LLE? That I'd have to see My sharp shooters shatter your drеams No heart, we'll drop you dead in thе ring I fiend for the blood, put the red on the screen, let's go [Chorus: Lee Carver, Billy Obey] No chance, no chance, that's what you got It's the LLE, hit the one two three Do it again with the SciCo Screwjob You got no chance, no chance, that's what you got Your ass better call somebody It's about to get bloody [Verse 2: Joe Black] I gotta dodge all the panties that the women throw 'Cause I'm the shit, Bam Bam Deuce Bigalow Drunk backstage, asked Booker to pass the sugar (Please?) I'll smash a hooker faster than Bastion Booger Title belt, going out top goat Hang myself with the belt from the top rope If my finisher connects, you're either dead or out cold Conversate with the heads I collect like Al Snow (What's up?) Body of a god, same shape as Buddha You a disgrace, puke in your face, Great Muta Killed in the ring, but you're not Roddy (Nope) Or Christ but you can catch a crossbody This shit is warfare (Haha), there is no peace Implant a steel chair in your dome piece (Blaow!) All the while taunt the crowd while you bleed out And frog splash your ass to the three count (One, two, three) [Chorus: Lee Carver, Billy Obey] No chance, no chance, that's what you got It's the LLE, hit the one two three Do it again with the SciCo Screwjob You got no chance, no chance, that's what you got Your ass better call somebody It's about to get bloody [Verse 3: Mr 8 Legz] Yeah, hit my pyrotechnics time to send 'em a message (Bitch!) Marks need to scramble on up and locate the exits Before this Nexus next to you with your neck slit David Arquette shit, then it's on to the next gig Bitch, fuck you and your clique Catch a smacked face backstage poppin' off at the lip I ain't with them untrained lames barely makin' a name I'm here to change the game like Paul Levesque had his sex rearranged Fall back, there's no holdin' my bars, it's all facts Closest you gettin' is pickin' up my bar tabs Hard ass, I've seen more heart in a car crash I'll rip the spine from your back, now that's a fuckin' dark match Let me tell you something, brother, I highly doubt that your mother Gon' be cool with a luchador up and takin' you from her But I'ma go for the cover, choke and smother and make you suffer Send you to Heaven, that's how I'll put you over, motherfucker (Motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker) [Chorus: Lee Carver, Billy Obey] No chance, no chance, that's what you got It's the LLE, hit the one two three Do it again with the SciCo Screwjob You got no chance, no chance, that's what you got Your ass better call somebody It's about to get bloody [Verse 4: Lee Carver] Ever see a fat fuck botch a tope suicida? From the top of the arena crush a scene, you're a traitor But can still get a pop from the marks in the stands The day Hell freezes over, you'll be over with fans Carver death match champ, top heel in the company You cryin' online, helps me go to sleep comfortably I do numbers like Scott Steiner and if I dig deep enough I just might get to Chyna, here's your reminder Your Bingo hall skills couldn't reach the mid card I got ring rats from Detroit to Bismarck And this dark match has one stipulation Casket match, no disqualification Smoke Thursday Night Thunder, spit Sunday Night Heat Its like Austin, break a glass every time that I speak LLE, and we makin' 'em panic It's still fuckin' real to me, damn it [Chorus: Lee Carver, Billy Obey] No chance, no chance, that's what you got It's the LLE, hit the one two three Do it again with the SciCo Screwjob You got no chance, no chance, that's what you got Your ass better call somebody It's about to get bloody [Verse 5: Whipstick] Take you out the trunk, leave you like a Von Erich Call the Undertaker, buried alive, I'm Paul Bearer It's all terror, cast a curse, Papa Shango Baby face STD, that positive role model Such a shoot interview, we go atomic with a leg drop I wish you all the luck, then break your leg with insane pops Seventy-eight feet from turnbuckle to the ceiling Take a pistol, shove it in your face, and call me Brian Pillman The Outsiders end your streak with a fucking cattle prod Dousing all the gasoline and burnin' down all your Babylon Salt the earth, right the wrongs, Rowdy Roddy Piper bombs Mix it up with music, play it back on the Titantron It's like a Nick Gage deathmatch, switch blades bet that Serrated to your scalp, push your wig back Arrange your facial features like a sentence call it syntax We wreck you like Rikishi and you're stone cold with the whiplash [Chorus: Lee Carver, Billy Obey] No chance, no chance, that's what you got It's the LLE, hit the one two three Do it again with the SciCo Screwjob You got no chance, no chance, that's what you got Your ass better call somebody It's about to get bloody [Outro: Billy Obey] We come up in a little monster truck! Hit the gas and double over one by one And Steve Austin said uhhhuhhhuhhh! He said what