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

But from 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 by just be brief-a

Bout to rattle off some other 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

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 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, 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

gag-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-ag

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