You wanted the worst? You got the worst The one, the only Limp Bizkit You can push stop You can push stop You wanted the best?! Then go get the fuckin' Backstreet Boys CD 'Cause in this house, it's Limp motherfuckin' Bizkit Balls made of steel Balls made of steel But don't kick me in the nuts, though Limp Bizkit's in the house Limp Bizkit's in the house Limp Bizkit's in the house Limp Bizkit's in the house And you ain't shit Ha ha ha ha ha You ain't shit! Ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha You ain't shit! Ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha! You ain't shit motherfucker! You fuck! You ain't shit! Hey, it's the bald man And I'm here to tell you why the new Limp Bizkit album's so important That's because CD's like this will spare you from all the chart-topping Teenie-bopping, disposable Happy horse shit That brings up the bile from the back of my neck I have no time or tolerance for all shitty whack acts like that I wouldn't piss on their CD's to put out a fire And I'm tired off all those lame-ass, tame-ass Pre-fabricated sorry excuses for singers And musicians who don't even write their own songs What the world needs now is a musical revolution We need some rock, we need somethin' ass-boss! We need something with substance, with depth Something with soul, some edge, some passion, some power! Shit, if it's gonna be mellow Fuck, man, it better have somethin' It better mean somethin' I'm tellin' you, you gotta hit 'em with somethin' hard You gotta stick 'em with somethin' limp, like Limp Bizkit I'm so fuckin' tired of this shit that I'm hearing on the radio Radio sucks! The same fuckin' songs over and over again All the week ones, all that disposable crap that isn't gonna matter in three months It's just shit (Hey, Matt, calm down) It's crap, Fred Fred, I'm tellin' you, there's nothin' but shit going on And we need some new music (But, well, what about Limp Bizkit?) Limp Bizkit is fucking cool You guys are cool, the new record is great But fuck all that other shit I'm so sick of all that week shit that's taking space on the charts (Hey, Matt, calm down, man) Fuck this shit, I'm outta here (Fuck, dude) (Fucking Pinfield is pissed!) (Oh man I gotta go find that bald bastard) (Hey Matt, Matt!) Hit me! Firecracker So there you go Fifteen of your hard-earned dollars right out the window Most expensive piece of plastic I've ever come across Fifteen dollars Fifteen dollars on a shiny piece of plastic There it is Limp Bizkit, in all it's glory Fred Durst, the man, the myth, the compulsive masturbater You love him, you hate him, you love to hate him Hello! Ha ha! Once, when I was afraid to speak When I was just a lad My poppy gave my nose a tweek And told me I was bad And then I learned a brilliant word That saved my achin' nose The biggest word you've ever heard And this is how it goes Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Even though the sound of it Is something quite atrocious Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Ahh, those were the days I dunno You got any more of that? I'm smoking 'em in a minute So, what did you think, you were getting a Celine Dion record? No, no, no young bucky! You laughed, you cried You just kissed your fifteen bucks goodbye Limp Bizkit? I don't think so Fred Durst? I don't know But what the hell, I got paid Goodbye now!