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Jon on the song: Fred was there after Korn TV and we said, Lets do a song together, Hey, man, lets go back and forth and rip on each other like an old school battle. I dont know whos idea it was, I cant remember if it was mine or Fieldys or Freds but we came up with the idea and we started writing and we worked on it together. I came up with some bags on myself for Fred to say. It was all in good natured fun.

Fred: Whats up with this fucking Ball Tongue shit?

Jon: All I needed was a Pepsi...

Fred: You better shut the fuck up, punk.

Jon: Whatever nigga...

Fred: Say what, say what?

Jon: My dick is bigger than yours...

Fred: Say what, say what?

Jon: My band is bigger than yours...

Fred: Too bad I got your beans in my bag, stuck-up sucka, Korny motherfucka. Takin over flows is the Limp pimp, need a Bizkit to save this crew from Jon Davis. Im gonna drop a little east side skill, ya best step back cuz Im a kill, Im a kill. So watcha thinking Mr. Raggedy man? Doin all you can to look like Raggedy Ann.

Jon: Ill Check you out punk, yes I know you feel it. You look like one of those dancers from the Hanson video, you little faggot ho. Please give me some shit to work with, cuz right now Im all it kid, suck my dick kid, like your daddy did.

Fred: Who the fuck you think youre talking to??

Jon: Me.

Fred: Im known for eatin little whiny chumps like you.

Jon: Whatever.

Fred: All up in my face with that...

Jon: Are you ready??

Fred: But halitosis, is all youre rockin steady. You little fairy, smelling all your flowers. Nappy hairy chest, look its Austin Powers

Jon: Yeah, baby

Fred: I hear ya tweetin on them fag-pipes clod, but you said it best, theres No Place To Hide.

Jon: What the fuck ya sayin? Youre a pimp whateva, limp dick. Fred Durst needs to rehearse, needs to reverse what hes saying. Wannabe funk joke is what youre playin, rippin up a bad counterfeit, fakin Plus your bills Im paying, you cant eat that shit every day, Fred. Lay off the bacon.

Fred: Say what, say what? You better watch your fuckin mouth, Jon.

CHORUS:
Jon: So you hate me?
Fred: and I hate you
Jon: You know what, you know what?
Both: Its all in the family.

Jon: I hate you
Fred: and you hate me
Jon: You know what, you know what?
Both: Its all in the family.

Jon: Look at you fool, Im gonna fuck you up twice, throwin rhymes at me like, oh shit, Vanilla Ice. Ya better run, run while ya can, youll never fuck me up, Bisc Limpkit. At least I got a phat, original band.

Fred: Whos hot, whos not?

Jon: You.

Fred: You best step back, Korn on the cob, you need a new job. Time to take them mic skills back to the dentist, and buy yourself a new grill.

Jon: Fuck you.

Fred: You pumpkin pie, Ill jack-off in your eye. Climbing shoots and ladders, while your ego shatters. But you just cant get away.

Jon: Get a gay?

Fred: Cuz its doomsday kid, its doomsday.

CHORUS

Fred: You call yourself a singer?

Jon: Yep.

Fred: Youre more like Jerry Springer.

Jon: Oh cool

Fred: Your favorite band is winger,

Jon: Winger?

Fred: and all you eat is Zingers. Youre like a Fruity Pebble, your favorite flag is rebel.

Jon: Yeeeeeehaaaaaa

Fred: Its just too bad that youre a fag, and on a lower level.

Jon: So youre from Jacksonville, kickin it like Buffalo Bill. Gettin butt-fucked by your uncle Chuck, while your sisters on her knees waitin for your fuckin nut.

Fred: Wait, whered ya get that little dance?

Jon: Over here.

Fred: Like them idiots in Waco, youre burning up in Bako where your father had your mother, your mother had your brother, its just too bad your fathers mad, your mothers now your lover.

Jon: Come on hillbilly, can your horse do a fuckin wheelie? You love it down south, and boy, you sure do got a purdy mouth.

CHORUS

Jon: and I love you

Fred: and I want you

Jon: and Ill suck you

Fred: and Ill fuck you

Jon: and Ill butt-fuck you

Fred: and Ill eat you

Jon: and I lick your little dick motherfucker.

Fred: Say what? Say... what?