First of all I make sure I've got the right ingredients

Before I heat up the pan

I take a little bit of bitterness to grease it up

And keep everything close at hand

Then I add a few ounces of fresh frustration and half a cup of attitude

A rush of adrenaline to spice things up

And then half a spoon of bad mood

One bottle of my sweat one bottle of tears

A few drops of my own blood

It all blends together like a cat and dog

And the result is as clear as mud

I pick the worst situation out of the bunch

And throw it right into the mix

And last but not least I add a little bit of spit

Just a few little nasty cliques



That's my recipe for hate



I turn up the heat to 400 degrees and go to work on the attitude

I shake it all up in a provocative way to make sure it comes out rude

Then I grind down the frustration hard so that all of the scents can blend

I pour the sweat on top and then the tears

To make sure that I don't make friends

When the mood is wrong, everything is right, I can add the adrenaline

But I've got to be careful with the dose I use

The effect shouldn't wear to thin

The blood comes last cos' it always has a tendancy to cool and coagulate

So I calculate and make no mistakes

It's so fresh that it still pulsates



That's my recipe for hate...



When the meal is done you get a spoiled appetite

And a dish full of disagree some ignorance on the side

A plate full of hate, served with a fistful of me