This is the funniest song ever produced! The lyrics are all about ladies getting crabby on their period, OMG! 2 Live Crew never created a song with as much shock value as this one from BWP, The Bytches! Here is a sample of the lyrics:
Gather up the tissues, stick it up your hole
And don't try to act cute, you focking ho
You ain't had tissues, so you used a rag
You lying, dirty douche bag

Full lyrics:
No, no, no, this is all wrong
I can't take this today
I'm on my period
Look, Leeanda, you come up to my office right now
Leeanda, Leeanda

No, it's Lyndah!

Whatever
I never understood why you people had such funny names anyway
I know that you people don't like to work
But around here you have to work
And you're going to work hard
Is that understood?
Take those headphones off of your ears!
You're not going to listen to that nigg
I mean rap music in this establishment
Is that understood?
Is it?
Answer me!
And furthermore, you're going to work through your break
Through lunch, and overtime

I can't work overtime, I have to pick up my daughter at 6:00

That's not important
Now we know who's boss around here, don't we?
Now get out of my office!
(door slam)
Goddam niggers

bytch bleeding all focking day
Up in her arse, dripping down her legs
Her panties are soaking, drenched in blood
Her arse so cakey, it feel like a bug
She got cramps shooting up as far as her breasts

That bytch got PMS!

She crabby as hell, couldn't give a fock
But yo bytch, you out of luck
You used the last focking Cotex an hour ago
Ain't got no money, can't run to the store
So hot from the chair, no time to fess

bytch, you go change your Cotex!

Blood clots, big as the focking blob
You focking with everybody on the job
Is your head pounding from all that blood?
Well, yo bytch, shut the fock up!
Gather up the tissues, stick it up your hole
And don't try to act cute, you focking ho
You ain't had tissues, so you used a rag
You lying, dirty douche bag
Back to the problem

What she said?

bytch, your drawers is red
I'm a give you a piece of my mind
bytch, blood's on your behind
Goddam motherfocker fish smelling bytch
Looking three months pregnant, go take a $hit
I know you sick of this bloody time of the month
You can't get no duck cause your husband fronts
Walking around he all riffing and $hit
I oughta whoop your arse, bytch
I'm a tell you to your face, cause I won't fess

bytch, you go change your Cotex!

Now you walking around all focking day
But no one wants to tell you your arse is red
Carrying on like you hot $hit

You leaking, bytch!

fock out my face, and do it fast
Before I shove my foot in your arse
And if I get fired from this focking job
Every payday, bytch, your arse is robbed
So be on your way, and don't try to flex
bytch

Go change your Cotex!
Go change your Cotex!
Go change your Cotex!

I quit
fock you, focking white bytch!
Kick your focking arse

Leeanda, Leeanda
I don't approve of that language around here
I won't have you speak to me in that maner
Leeanda, get back here
Get back here now, Leeanda!
focking niggers

At this end I end you
focking gutless whore
I take you to focking war

Whatever

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