Lyrics:

I got the call Monday mornin'

Sometime around 9 a.m.

I felt down and out, left for dead,

Lost without a friend

Now how you live with yourself

Well child, I just don't know

But as far as I'm concerned I think ya

Really suck, you're rotten and you really blow



I hate your guts

I wish that you was dead

I hate your guts

You're damn right that's what I said

I hate your guts

And I wish that you was dead

I'd dig the holy myself

But I'd rather run ya over with my truck instead



Your first name should be ass

Your last name should be wipe

Believe me when I say this

Cus I've been shit on more than twice

Well it's funny how it works

It just seems to never end

Just when ya think ya had enough

They'll bend ya over and fuck ya once again !



I hate your guts

I wish that you was dead

I hate your guts

You're damn right that's what I said

I hate your guts

And I wish that you was dead

I'd dig the hole myself

But I'd rather run ya over with my truck instead



What's mine is mine

What's yours is mine

And that's the way it's gonna be

If ya got a problem with that ya little bastard

Don't ya come around to me

Now I've been doin' this now

For quite a many day

I'll rip off your nuts and

Shove them down your throat and

Head off on my merry way



Money-hungry and greedy

Child you're just downright wrong

Ya pissed me off so many times

I just had to write this song

Everyone's got their problems

And I know you sure got yours

But you make livin' child

Seem like a back breakin' chore



I hate your guts

I wish that you was dead

I hate your guts

You're damn right that's what I said

I hate your guts

And I wish that you was dead

I'd dig the hole myself

But, I'd rather run ya over with my truck instead