- Votes:
 - Composers:
 - Michael Puwal
 - Chris Rouleau
 - Jamie Madrox
 
- Tags:
 - detroit
 - michigan
 - psychopathic
 - tag
 - wicked
 
- See also:
 
Blaze ya Dead Homie - Juggalo Anthem lyrics
Juggalo Anthem Lyrics (Blaze Ya Dead Homie) 
 feat. Insane Clown Posse
 (Violent J)
 Killas kick the anthem like this
 Juggalos up in this bitch, up in this bitch
 Killas kick the anthem like this
 Juggalos up in this biiiitch, blaze
 (Blaze Ya Dead Homie)
 G's up, ridin' from the cradle to the casket
 And beyond, recognize thug shit
 Poundin' out the trunk bitch
 Runnin' wit' a mother f**kin' hatchet
 you haters, you suck dick was a thug, became a G
 B to the L to the A, Z, E, still dead
 Still don't give a f**k (give a f**k)
 Sportin' all black kahkis with the mother f**kin' cuffs up
 Smokin' Hella trees, tryin' to make a couple G's
 So a thug can get back on his feet
 Mean muggin', steady thuggin'
 And I'm tryin' to find the hoodrat's all about f**kin'
 Still loked out
 All my dawgs from the past, dead or smoked out
 Still tryin' to come up on a lick for a phat ass ride
 So I can drop the top, and parlay through the east side
 Chorus(Monoxide Child)
 Niggas kick the anthem like this
 Juggalos up in this bitch, up in this bitch! x 4
 (Blaze)
 Bitches freeze, you aint a thug or a G or a banga'
 You's a studio gangsta
 You aint about shit, scared to pull the trigga'
 That's what we call, a real bitch nigga' (bitch nigga')
 Sneekin' through the hood, throwin' up a setBlaze ya Dead Homie - Juggalo Anthem - http://motolyrics.com/blaze-ya-dead-homie/juggalo-anthem-lyrics.html
 Hangin' out the window, yellin' idol threats
 Check this out, I'm a check your chin
 Close your mouth, 'fore I put the barrel in
 Dumpin' clips in yo ass is what I'm all about
 Straight G from the clique on a paper route
 Still slappin' off fake bitches with the Louiville
 Beat a nigga' to the pavement, another bitch killed
Chorus(Monoxide Child)
 (Jaime Madrox)
 This is the battle for the planets
 We bring the thunder, givin' half the advantage
 F**k a style and a status
 Half of y'all hummin' off a half ass deal
 And got the nerve to tell a mother f**ker 'keep it real'
 We see through y'all fools, like cellophane on the square pack
 You bite our shit, you can keep it, we don't want it back
 We don't give a f**k, east side for life
 And if you aint got heart, don't expect to have your shit tight
 There aint no room for the hoe-hearted
 We give a f**k where you at, or who you wit', or how you got started
 F**k you and everybody in yo clique
 If you don't run wit' a hatchet, or claim the Psychopathic
 I aint got time, to say no names
 It's only 8 rhymes, no holla', we been in the game
 Besides f**k it, no speakin your name
 You're just a bitch in the game
 And y'all niggas gone' always be the same
 Chorus x8
 *Hammer slide*
Blaze Ya Dead Homie Juggalo Anthem










