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 Cause 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