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Giants Fan

The hardest, hardcore lyrics you can remember?

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2 live crew was what brought to the forefront, "explicit language" warning stickers. Tipper Gore and all her craprom 25 years ago.

 

But what a lot peope didn',t realize is, before all the school shootings and shiat ... A band out of Philly called FEAR ... Pretty much said everything possible. Not backwards, by the devil,or anything, forward, "Steal the money from your mother, buy a gun!"

 

Tipper though, seemed to go after minorities. Despite the amazingly violent lyrics from punk and hardcore bands, sex became the contoversey.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6VTj7LhCtE

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Coirse, de palma or whoever it was dint have a problem with it.

 

If the worst of war, is prostitution .... That,s not so bad.

 

 

Classic shot.

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I was lonelier than Kunta Kinti at a Merl Hagger concert.

 

 

Just for you wiff ol' buddy.

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Snow - Informer

Lickity the butt rub now ...or whatever it was... Disguised. So much harder, not disguised lyrics.

 

FEAR: KILL YOUR MOTHER AND FATHER!

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So f***ing what!Well, I've been to Hastings and I've been to BrightonI've been to Eastbourne tooSo what, so whatAnd I've been here, I've been thereI've been every f***ing whereSo what, so whatSo what, so what, you boring little c***Well, who cares, who cares what you doYeah, who cares, who cares about you, you, you, you, youWell, I've f***ed the queen, I've f***ed BachI've even sucked an old man's c***So what, so whatAnd I've f***ed a sheep, I've f***ed a goatI rammed my c*** right down its throatSo what, so whatSo what, so what, you boring little f***Well, who cares, who cares what you doAnd, who cares, who cares about you, you, you, you, youAnd I've drunk that, I've drunk thisI've spewed up on a pint of pissSo what, so whatI've had scank, I've had speedI've jacked up until I bleedSo what, so whatSo what, so what, you boring little c***Well, who cares, who cares what you doYeah, who cares, who cares about you, you, you, you, you, youA-hahaha!Yeah!I've had crabs, I've had liceI've had the clap and that ain't niceSo what, so whatI've f***ed this, I've f***ed thatI've even f***ed a school girl's twatSo what, so whatSo what, so what, you boring little f***Well, who cares, who cares what you doAnd, who cares, who cares about you, you, you, you, you, youSo f***ing what!

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Rise and shine, get out of bed

And I'm a warmachine again

Beat my meat a few times and

I am feeling mean my friend

Me, myself and I'm coming

It's best to watch your back

You are mine and I'm gunnin'

I swear I'll beat you black

 

I'm gonna get you and leave you for dead

And I'm gonna beat you with a blow to the head

You'll never forget me for the rest of my life

Cause I am gonna cut you like a switchblade knife

 

-Propain

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Rock a bye baby...

Lazy ass parents put their kid up in a tree because they can't take the time to rock it to sleep.

The tree branch breaks and its all happy and great because down comes the baby, cradle and all.

What a sick twisted song.

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Them bull dyke biotches is fockin up the game

Belly to belly

Skin to skin

Fockin like hell but no d!ck goin in

 

2 live crew.

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If you pheggets think 2 live crew and shiat like that is hardcore lyrics, you need to just not talk about rap music. Pls.

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There was a band back in the day that had some fawked up lyrics about killing nuns and hating the church. King Diamond? That dude was fawked up.

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Well my daddy came on the Ohio works

When he came home from World War Two

Now the yards just scrap and rubble

He said "them big boys did what Hitler couldn't do"

These mills they built the tanks and bombs that won this country's wars

We sent our sons to Korea and Vietnam

Now we wonder what they were dyin' for

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One of my favorite lines- Wisdom of the elders leading children to the grave

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The blind men shout, Let the creatures out
Let's show the unbelievers
The napalm screams of human flames
Of a prime time Belsen feast YEAH!!!

As the reasons for the carnage
Cut their meat and lick the gravy
We oil the jaws of the war machines
And feed them with our babies

 

.............

 

 

Body bags and little rags

Of children torn in two
The jellied brains of those who remain
Put the finger right on you

As the madmen play on words
And make us all dance to their song
To the tune of starving millions
To make a better kind of gun

 

:shocking: :headbanger: :headbanger: :headbanger:

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I never got along with the girls at my school
Filling me up with all their morals and their rules
They'd pile all their problems on my head
I'd rather go out and the dead
'Cause I can do what I want
And they won't complain
I wanna , I wanna the dead
Middle of the night so silently
I creep on over to the mortuary
Lift up the casket and fiddle with the dead
Their cold blue flesh makes me turn red
Do what I want
And they won't complain
I wanna , I wanna the dead
And I don't even care how she died
But I like it better
If she smells of formaldehyde
Never on the rag or say leave me alone
They don't scream and they don't moan
Don't even cry if I shoot in their hair
Lying on the table she smiles and she stares

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