[Sounds of someone puking]

There I go…thinking of you again

[Chorus]

You don't know how sick you make me

You make me fuckin' sick to my stomach

Every time I think of you, I puke

You must just not know–whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa

You may not think you do, but you do

Every time I think of you I puke

[Verse1]

I was gonna take the time to sit down and write you a little poem

But off of the dome would probably be a little more, more suitable for this type of song–whoa

I got a million reasons off the top of my head that I could think of

Sixteen bars, this ain't enough to put some ink ta

So fuck it, I'ma start right here I'll just be brief I'm

Bout to rattle off some of the reasons

I knew I shouldn't go and get another tattoo of you

On my arm, but what do I go and do

I go and get another one, now I got two

Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh

Now I'm sittin' here with your name on my skin

I can't believe I went and did this stupid shit again

My next girlfriend, now her name's gotta be Kim

Shi-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-it

If you only knew how much I hated you

For every motherfuckin' thing you ever put us through

Then I wouldn't be standing here crying over you

Boo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-who

[Chorus]

You don't know how sick you make me

You make me fuckin' sick to my stomach

Every time I think of you, I puke

You must just not know–whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa

You may not think you do, but you do

Every time I think of you I puke

[Verse2]

I was gonna take the time to sit down and write you a little letter

But I thought a song would probably be a little better

Instead of a letter

That you'd probably just shred up–yeah

I stumbled on your picture yesterday and it made me stop and think of

How much of a waste it'd be for me to put some ink ta, a stupid piece a

Paper, I'd rather let you see how

Much I fuckin' hate you in a freestyle

You're a fuckin' coke-head slut, I hope you fuckin' die

I hope you get to hell and Satan sticks a needle in your eye

I hate your fuckin' guts, you fuckin' slut, I hope you die

Di-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ie

But please don't get me wrong, I'm not bitter or mad

It's not that I still love you, it's not 'cause I want you back

It's just that when I think of you, it makes me wanna

Yack-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-ack

What else can I do, I haven't got a clue

Now I guess I'll just move on, I have no choice but to

But every time I think of you now, I'll I wanna do

Is pu-uu-uu-uu-uu-uu-uke

[Chorus]

You don't know how sick you make me

You make me fuckin' sick to my stomach

Every time I think of you, I puke

You must just not know–whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa

You may not think you do, but you do

Every time I think of you, I puke

Fuckin' bitch