intimidate you with my eyesight, I try to hide from the ads bitch,
everyday we startin static, live with the maggots, masters of hte black magic,
my shit's for the killas, wiht Twiztid tags on their back,
my shit's for the killas, who walk around with an axe,
my shit's for the killas, screamin I would rather die,
then I see you mother fuckers doing MTV live,
you can keep the mainstream light in all the hoes,
I'm steady cussin in videos for juggalos,
I'm underground where the dead don't sleep,
keep us a secret to the world and watch the posse increase,
so if you feel why don't you bury me alive,
(Chorus)
Bury me alive, run with the psychopathic hatchet man,
bury me alive,(bury me alive), keep it in your clique fuck the outside,
strictly for the juggalos, bitch I thought you knew,
cuz we sealing up the mainstream ears with crazy glue,
so they can't hear a word we say, we stage witches speak of voodoo,
them bitches won't understand it anyway,
walk with an axe when the sun falls, talkin through the Ouji board,
for predictions of the halocaust, give a fuck less about videos or airplay,
we stay u edited and scream till they ears ring,
this is your shit it was made for you, don't let the radio influence you,
and tell you what to listen yto, and everyone at MTV can suck my dick,
tellin me we'll be the shit if they label us a buzz clip,
man fuck that, we deep beneath the underground,
we rose with the hatchet you can hear the wicked sound,
in your eardrums don't let the others get a taste,
and if they start to bump it smack em in they face,
(chorus)
this ain't no club scene so ain't nobody dancing,
I only fuck with the dead and my moother fuckin advances,
chances are you outta luck when you fuckin with the killas,
psychopathis fuck it we be the illist, we be the realist,
like everybody else doin that I'm in the back in black, chillin with a bloody axe,
when we attack we have your whole crew shook,
you fake hoes know Twiztid wrote the goddamn book,
and I don't give a fuck, perpatrators you can suck my nuts,
say you bought the album, but don't know a single cut,
you's a band wagon ryda givin juggalos a bad name,
we'll fuck you up for that, bitch this ain't no fuckin game,
fuck all that shit they print bro, magazines is toilet paper glorified for the assholes,
fuck publications, syndications, music segregation,
cuz we run beneath the nation.
(Chorus til end)