Real Buddy Roll Call - 6/8/09
Bored at work the other day, I decided to download the lyrics to Tupac's epic swear-fest "Hit 'Em Up" and count how many curse words there were. I realized that this would be much easier if I just pasted the lyrics into Word and did a search-and-replace, which counts the instances of each replacement you make. Then I realized that the song was much funnier with the new, replacement words.

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Hit 'Em Up (Clean Version)

[[[[[[[[
46 instances of "Fuck" replaced with "Hump"
20 instances of "Nigga" replaced with "Darky"
8 instances of "Ass" replaced with "Booty"
6 instances of "Bitch" replaced with "Wimp"
2 instances of "Shit" replaced with "Fecal Matter"
82 total replacements
]]]]]]]]

[Tupac]
I ain't got no motherhumping friends
That's why I humped your wimp
You're fat motherhumper {Take Money}
West Side
Bad Boy Killers {Take Money}
You know who the realist is
darkies we bring it to {Take Money}
(ha ha, that's alright)

First off, hump your wimp
And the click you claim
West side when we ride
Come equipped with game
You claim to be a player
But I humped your wife
We bust on Bad Boys
darkies hump for Life
Plus Puffy tryin' to see me weak
Hearts I rip
Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia
Some mark booty wimps
We keep on coming
While we running for your jewels
Steady gunning
Keep on busting at them fools
You know the rules
Little Ceasar go ask you homie
How I'll leave you
Cut your young booty up
See you in pieces
Now be deceased
Little Kim,
Don't hump around with real G's
Quick to snatch your ugly booty, off the streets
So hump peace
I'll let them darkies know
It's on for Life
Don't let the west side
Ride the night (ha ha)
Bad Boys murdered on Wax and kill
hump with me
And get your caps peeled
You know, see

[Chorus:]
Grab your glocks when you see 2pac
Call the cops when you see 2pac, uh
Who shot me,
But your punks didn't finish
Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
darky, I hit 'em up
Check this out
You motherhumpers know what time it is
I don't know why I'm even on this track
You all darkies ain't even on my level
I'm going to let my little homies
Ride on you
wimp made booty Bad Boys wimpes
{ah yo, yo, hold the hump up}
Get out the way yo
Get out the way yo
Biggie Smalls just got dropped
Little move pbooty the mac
And let me hit 'em in his back
Frank White needs to get spanked right
For setting up traps
Little accident murderers
And I ain't never heard of you
Poise less gats attack when I'm serving you
Spank the shank
Your whole style when I gank
Guard your rank
'cause I'm a slam your booty in a pang
Puffy weaker than a humpin' block
I'm running through darky
And I'm smoking Junior Mafia
In front of you darky
With the ready power
Tucked in my Guess
Under my Eddie Bauer
Your clout petty sour
I push packages ever hour
I hit 'em up

[Chorus]

Peep how we do it
Keep it real
Its penitentiary steel
This ain't no freestyle battle
All you darkies getting killed
With your mouths open
Tryin' to come up off of me
You and the clouds hoping
Smoking dope
It's like a Shermine
darkies think they learned to fly
But they burn motherhumper you deserve to die
Talking about you Getting Money
But it's funny to me
All you darkies living bummy
While you humping with me?
I'm a self made Millionaire
Thug livin', out of prison
Pistols in the Air {Air} (Ha Ha)
Biggie remember when I use to let you sleep on the couch
And beg the wimp to let you sleep in the house
Now it's all about Versace
You copied my style
Five shots couldn't drop me
I took it and smiled
Now I'm back to set the record straight
With my A-K
I'm still the thug that you love to hate
Mother-humper I'll Hit 'Em Up

I'm from N E W Jers.
Where plenty of murder occurs
No points to come
We bring drama to all you herds
Now go check the scenario
Little Ceas'
I'll bring you fake G's to your knees
Copin' pleas with these
Little Kim is you
Coked up or doped up
Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up
What the hump?
Is you stupid?
I take money,
crash and mash through Brooklyn
With my click looting, shooting, and polluting your block
With fifteen shot,
Cocked glock to your knot
Outlaw Mafia click moving up another notch
And your Pop stars popped and get dropped and mopped
And all your fake booty east coast props
Brainstormed and locked

You're a beat biter
Pac style taker
I'll tell you to face, you ain't nothing fecal matter but a faker
So fill the Alize with a chaser
'bout to get murdered for the paper
E.d.i I mean post the scene of the caper
Like a loc, with little Ceas' in a choke (uh)
Toting smoke, we ain't no motherhumpin' joke
Thug Life, darkies better be known
Be approaching
In the wide open, gun smoking
No need for hoping
It's a battle lost
I gottem crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off
darky, I hit 'em up

Now you tell me who won
I see them, they run (ha ha)
They don't wanna see us
Whole Junior Mafia click
Dressing up to be us
How the hump they gonna be the Mob?
When we always on out job
We millionaire's
Killing ain't fair
But somebody got to do it

Oh yah Mobb Deep (uh)
You wanna hump with us
You Little young booty motherhumpers
Don't one of you darkies got sickle-cell or something
You're humping with me, darky?
You hump around and catch a seizure or a heart-attack
You better back the hump up
Before you get smacked the hump up
This is how we do it on our side
Any of you darkies from New York that want to bring it,
Bring it.
But we ain't singing,
We bringing drama
hump you and your mother humping mama.
We're gonna kill all you mother humpers.
Now when I came out, I told you it was just about biggie.
Then everybody had to open their mouth with a mother humping opinion
Well this is how we gonna' do this:
hump Mobb Deep,
hump Biggie,
hump Bad Boy as a staff, record label, and as a mother humping crew.
And if you want to be down with Bad Boy,
Then hump you too.
Chino XL, hump you too.
All you mother humpers,
hump you too.
(take money, take money)
All of y'all mother humpers,
hump you, die slow motherhumper.
My four four (.44 magnum) make sure all your kids don't grow.
You motherhumpers can't be us or see us.
We mother humpin' Thug Life riders.
West Side till' we die.
Out here in California, darky
We warned ya'
We'll bomb on you mother humpers.
We do our job.
You think you the mob, darky, we the motherhumpin' mob
Ain't nothing but killers
And the real darkies, all you motherhumpers feel us.
Our fecal matter goes triple and four quadruple
You darkies laugh 'cause our staff got guns under they motherhumpin' belts
You know how it is and we drop records they felt
You darkies can't feel it
We the realist
hump 'em.
We Bad Boy killers.

------------------------------------

Full of hubris, I then bet my girlfriend that she couldn't find a song with even more swear words than "Hit 'Em Up", and she responded in about 3 minutes with the mammoth curse-athon that is Lil' John's 'Real Nigga Role Call.' She got a free dinner out of it, but I got this awesome PG rap song.

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Real Buddy Roll Call Lyrics
(feat. Ice Cube)

[[[[[[[[
91 instances of "Nigga" replaced with "Buddy"
23 instances of "Ass" replaced with "Butt"
16 instances of "Fuck" replaced with "Fudge"
9 instances of "Bitch" replaced with "Effeminate person"
3 instances of "Shit" replaced with "Poop"
3 instances of "Pussy" replaced with "Vajayjay"
145 total replacements
]]]]]]]]

[Lil' Jon talking:]
Yeah!
Right about now (whats up)
It's time for the real buddy roll call
Now when you hear your city or state (Uh Huh) being called
You put your motherfudgein' middle finger up in this effeminate person
ATL, St. Louis, Alabahma, Chicago, The Carolina's, Naptown,
DC, The Bay Area, VA, Miami, New York buddys, texas, You ain't know!

[hook]
[Lil' Jon:]
Ya'll buddys can't fudge wit my buddys ho![vajayjay buddyz] [x4]

[chorus]
[Lil' Jon and Ice Cube:]
Mothafudge that buddy! [x4]
Mothafudge that effeminate person! [x4]

[Lil' Jon:] Ya'll buddys!
Some old butt flexin' butt flauntin' butt buddys!
My Buddys!
Be some real butt trill butt buddys!
Ya'll buddys!
Be some ho butt vajayjay butt buddys!
My Buddys!
Be some head-bussin' gangsta butt buddys!
Ya'll Buddys!
Be some runnin' and scarey butt buddys!
My Buddys!
Be some Roy Jone beat ya butt buddys!
Ya'll Buddys!
Be some cake and handcuffin' butt buddys!
My Buddys!
Be some "Send them hoes out!" butt buddys!
Ya'll Buddys!
Be some tricking "Don't pay them hoes!" butt buddys!
My Buddys!
Be some Don Juan pimpin' butt buddys!
Ya'll Buddys!
Be some 22 havin' butt buddys!
My Buddys!
Be some chopper street sweepin' butt buddys!
Ya'll Buddys!
Them ol' half ounce sellin' butt buddys!
My Buddys!
Be some dirty bird movin' butt buddys!
Ya'll Buddys!
Be some kissin' security butt, butt buddys!
My Buddys!
Fudge them hoes and let 'em know butt buddys!
[Hook]
[Chorus]

[Ice Cube:]
See I'ma mean buddy
Youse afraid buddy
Ol' pretend buddy
Smile and grin buddy
I hate a false buddy
Diana Ross buddy
So if ya lost buddy
Meet tha boss buddy
He's a super buddy
Grin and groupa buddy
Act stupid buddy
I'll fudgein' nuke a buddy
Cuz youse a happy buddy
And ima nappy buddy
Fudgein' scrappy buddy
Meet ya pappy buddy
Its Ice Cube buddy
And Little Jon buddy
So if ya drunk buddy
Keep it crunk buddy
To you punk buddy
Feel tha bump buddy
Get yo testifyin butt in tha trunk buddy
You wanna tell buddy?
I'll drop a shell buddy
Send a frail buddy
Str8 ta hell buddy
Thats ya shelter buddy
Helta-skelta buddy
And when I belt a buddy
God help a buddy!

[hook]
[chorus]

[Lil Jon Talking:]
Yeah!
I see you and your lil clique up in tha club buddy
I see ya'll buddys over there talkin' and poop
But you know what buddy
Effeminate person buddys get dealt wit motherfudgein' real quick! Get 'em Cube!

[Ice Cube:]
Here we come boy
Real buddys shoot ta kill betta run boy
Or you can tell me how I feel as a
Real buddy
Which buddy
Go get a effeminate person buddy
No better
Hoes better do what I say
Cuz I'm insane in tha brain (insane in the brain)
Effeminate person I got Rick James in my veins
Real buddys never change
We just let it bang
Roll thru tha gutter lane
Daddy said let 'em hang
And cut 'em like its butter man
Skeet skeet skeet
Naw thats tha other man
Cuz my skeet never LEAKED
OUT THIS RUBBER mayne
TNA ain't workin' buddys DNA
That crazy effeminate person'll have ya butt off E&J
Fake buddys got these real effeminate persones bein' gay
Til my peoples come around its like night and day
Now she wanna change her god and the way she pray
Authentic buddys all know thats tha playa way

[hook]
[chorus]

[Lil Jon:]
We runnin this effeminate person
Ya'll buddys ain't poop
We runnin this effeminate person
Ya'll buddys ain't poop
We in tha club gettin' crunk
You in tha club gettin' stomped
We in tha club gettin' crunk
You in tha club gettin' stomped
We in tha hood on tha block
You in tha hood gettin' shot
We in tha hood on tha block
You in tha hood gettin' shot
We quick ta show you what we bout
You quick to run ya fudgein' mouth
We quick ta show you what we bout
You quick to run ya fudgein' mouth
We real buddys from tha east
And we act a fudgein' beast
We real buddys from tha east
And we act a fudgein' beast
We gangsta buddys from the west
Puttin holes in ya vest
We gangsta buddys from the west
Puttin holes in ya vest
My midwest buddys hard
Quick ta pull ya fudgein' card
My midwest buddys hard
Quick ta pull ya fudgein' card
And down south we set if off
Blow ya fudgein' face off
And down south we set if off
Blow ya fudgein' face off (real buddy roll call!)


------------------------------------
This is super easy to do with any song. Just copy the lyrics into Word and search-and-replace out your favorite curse words and replace them with your favorite substitutes. Send me anything good you come up with and I'll post it!

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