from the songs album Ringmaster
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 fuck If 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!
I got him, I got him, I got him
Right here, I got him
Oh, he got away
Come on, that way, get him
Little baby's peeing his pants
Come here little boy
I got some candy
Mommy ain't gonna help ya know, you little bitch
Yeah, rich-ass, snitch-ass, bitch-ass ho
You get your motherfucking next chopped in Violent J's Fun House
So don't fuck with the wicked clowns, you punk-ass bitch
Come here, little boy
I have some candy for ya
I crack your head in a DLT
Little boy, come out come out
Wherever you are
You're father's so funny
Look at the blood
I liked him
I like it
This little kiddy's getting his necked chopped off tonight
Oh, come here
Little richie, come here
Your mommy says for you to come with me
You're so scared
Why you shaking, little boy?
What's the matter, huh?
Awww, little richie's scared
Look at the blood
Awww, he's crying
BITCH!!!
more Lyrics
