They all got fucking Birkenstocks
It's fifty fucking degrees out
Some of them don't wear shoes at all
At Haight and Ash you'll find them all
Fucking hippies make me real sick
Ask for change to buy their fix
Some wear shorts and freeze a lot
Think they're cool? They're fucking not
Chorus
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill
I'm killing all the fucking hippies
I'm killing all the fucking hippies
I'm killing all the fucking hippies
I'm killing all those fucking hippies
Die, die, die, die
Wash your hair and cut your dreads
Or else you're gonna end up dead
Get that lice off of your head
Or I will fill you full of lead
They're all rejects from the sixties
Get some jobs you fucking hippies
I'm an easy going guy
But I'm even more mellow when hippies die
Chorus
Die!
