|
Insane Clown Posse - My Fun House lyrics
Rich boy's in trouble Car broke down on a drive through the ghetto All the weird people, you gotta get the fuck out Need to use the phone, step into my funhouse Hey yo, dope, looks like we got another He'd like to go for a ride on the neck cutter Straight to the cart for the next spectacular Just to know, it's a dead body sittin next to ya Get ready for the carnival thrills Should of cut your little faggot ass in the hills Boom! through the door into the room, you gotta check it out It's where we cut your fingers off and stick em in your mouth That should show you that you greedy little rich fuckIf you're bucking with the juggla you're a dead duck Eight fingers in your mouth and two sticking out your nose Further down the hall, the room with jokeros That's where you get by seventeen wicked clowns For the seventeen dead bodies never found And they jump on your back until your ribs crack Toss you in the cart and push you down the deli tracks Spinning and twisting, rolling and bumping The dead fuck next to ya is trying to tell ya somethin Listen close, you can barely make it out "Bitch, you ain't shit in my electric funhouse" "Help me, I'm trapped in here. Somebody let me out. Oh my god!!! Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!" "Come here, rich boy My head is spinning 360 degrees Richie richie richie Come here" "Bitch, fuck you, yeah, know what I'm saying Wicked clowns running the funhouse Ain't no way to get out until the killer gets your neck cut like a man" Pick a card, any card, any motherfucking card......A joker's card Sorry, bitch, the luck of the draw Violent J's gonna have to ice your jaw Snap, bang, snip, boom Send that motherfucker off to the next room Crash through the doors on the windy spinny trail Through a loop-de-loop and into a big nail Straight through his left eye and out the back of his head Is he dead? No, cause he has to go to the next phase It's the room of giggles because of your ways You like to sit and laugh at people when they suffer Well, now you sit and watch me laugh when I stick your mother It's the funhouse, bitch, everything's funny You act like whipping on your ass ain't funny And the ride of your life only gets faster Off to the R-r-r-ringmaster I take my bobo gun and blow your fuckin mouth in Eh, yo, the next room, it's called the chicken pen And it's a little tribute to the bigots of the south We take a dead chicken shove it in your mouth And we stuff it down your throat with a pitchfork Cuz you're a big gut, that's what you get for it Now I take your sorry ass and I throw you out Cuz I don't need your dead body stinkin up my funhouse Funhouse, stinkin up my funhaugh |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 Time on Earth by Crowded House |
 Minutes to Midnight by Linkin Park |
 Waiting for the Punchline by Extreme |
 Zizanie by Zazie |
 Wanna Go Back by Eddie Money |
