Papa Roach...Ivan... Liquid Diet Lyrics:
Liquid Diet

This time I came to get mine. I saw this cat
running with his hand on his 9mm. He's got a small
peter. Got 2 kids and a wife plus he beats her.
Nod ya head as if my shit was the dog catcher.
P-Roach comin through sick and I'm gonna have to
betcha my last dollar that you come on back. You
getting weak in the knees while you smokin the
cess. Oh yes. Word to God. I know his son is the
best. He helps me out when I'm down or when I'm
crazy ill stressed. I confess. I'm not as good as
the rest. But I get down for my crown and I don't
crack under stress. But I'll be careful though
cause the girl is memorizing. She takes off her
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clothes. Her body is mad surprising. Slangin.
Bangin. Her two breasts was firm and not hangin.
Listen to this rhyme that I'm slangin. Hooked up
with this girl. Her name is Kelly. For really. The
hip hop body and a piercing through her belly. I
knew she was mine when I saw her working on the
line. Servin pasta & salad and she's still
lookin fine. But enough of that though. I give a
shot out to Happy. He's partying down and getting
props in this rap. See cause I'm the type of
cracker that'll get straight down to beat that you
hear. It's the P-Roach sound. Abused with forks.
Knives. Cut with razor blades. That shit is
absurd. His temper's flaring. Now he's twice as
mean. Now I am talking about this fool. Beats his
wife. Thinks he's cool. She cries so hard. She's
trembling. This time he beats her. He's twice as
mean. Silence in her rage. She should recognize.
Next time he is gone she should pack her bags and
leave...
Lyrics: Liquid Diet, Papa Roach...Ivan... [end]