Tear It Up - Hollywood Undead

Tear it up, tear it up, yeah

Tear it up, tear it up, yeah

Tear it up, tear it up, yeah

Here we go now, here we go

So don’t make me tear it up

You know I don’t give a fuck

And I ain’t here to shake things up

But I got my hand on my gun

So don’t make me tear it up

You know I don’t give a fuck

And I ain’t here to shake things up

But I got my hand on my gun

I beat the pussy up like Ying-Yang

Put it right thurr like Ching-Chang, you know I make our shit bang

You know I don’t give a motherfuck about your first name

I wanna lock that ass like a motherfucking chain-gang

Tear it up, stand up and throw it up

And tear up the floor like you don’t give a fuck

I know you got heels on, I know what you’re feeling

They caught us riding dirtier, and they’re bumping Chamillion

I got a bounty on my head jut for repping Undead

Because I’m freaking on your sister and I’m grinding her friend

And what the fuck you think?

I’m trying to make 'em sweat like a motherfucking track meet

J-D-O-G, I got your girl on the leash

I got her fiending and the whole crowd’s screaming

Shake it like a what?

Fuck you!

HU crew!

We don’t give a fuck!

What?

What?

So don’t make me tear it up

You know I don’t give a fuck

And I ain’t here to shake things up

But I got my hand on my gun

So don’t make me tear it up

You know I don’t give a fuck

And I ain’t here to shake things up

But I got my hand on my gun

Shake it like a what?

Fuck you

Shake it like a what?

Fuck you

Shake it like a what?

Fuck you

Shake it like a what?

Fuck you

No, I ain’t a gangsta, don’t pack a pistol

Motherfuckers keep running mouth, motherfuckers catch a fistful

Guided like a missile from two bottles of Jack

That I drank in the back of an '88 Cadillac

It’s Johnny 3, Johnny sees what Johnny needs

Johnny breathes weed;

still, Johnny don’t see anything

Johnny buys drink, Johnny winks and Johnny thinks

Johnny circles dance floor like roller rink

Jump up, down;

down in the H-Town, get down

To the sound that’s bound to make the motherfucking crowd loud

Wanna see you move, yeah, move to the music

Wanna see you booze, yeah, booze till you puke it

See bitch, grab ass, get smacked to the mat

Get up, slap back, get thrown out the back

But you’re back through the back door, back to the dance floor

Gotta, gotta get mine;

gotta, gotta get more

So don’t make me tear it up

You know I don’t give a fuck

And I ain’t here to shake things up

But I got my hand on my gun

So don’t make me tear it up

You know I don’t give a fuck

And I ain’t here to shake things up

But I got my hand on my gun

Hell yeah, motherfucker, turn it up

Turn it up, Focus Three

Fuck you, Jeff Peters

Fuck you, Mike Renault

Gangstas up in this bitch

You gotta ride to die

Fuck yeah