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 a dog
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
(That's my recipe for hate)
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
And 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 tendency 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
(That's my recipe for hate)
That's my recipe for hate
(That's my recipe for hate)
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
That's my recipe for hate
(That's my recipe for hate)
That's my recipe for hate
(That's my recipe for hate)
That's my recipe for hate