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Viewing Lyrics for The Show Must Go On:
| | | Artist: | Insane Clown Posse |
| | Album: | Riddlebox | | Track: | The Show Must Go On | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 1 | | | | Lyrics: | Awwwwwwwwww,
Shit Yo,
check it out, man,
ICP back in the haugh man!
Violent J,
man,
2 Dope, man,
wicked clowns, man.
Ha ha ha!
Hey, quick, hurry up,
bang.
Open your mouth cause here comes my wang.
I'm Violent J, the southwest
skitzo.
Born in a big top magical majisto
Dead body disco rappin' to the
hoochies.
Dirty old fat hoe's come up with a smoochie.
Hoochie coochie, la la la la
la.
I might pull your tongue out your mouth and try to hang ya.
It's a full moon and the
riddles are calling.
Three more cards and the skies will be falling.
But don't take it
from me, I'm just a clown.
Wicked clown, wicked town, Juggalugagaluga and lick it down
And
up till my nuts start singing,
Dancing, hopping I'ma keep bringing
Riddles and
tricks
And dead body chicks
With the swing of my magical wand,
The show must go
on.
"Well, it all began when I was very young.
My feelings were so excited about the
carnival rides.
Everyone was jolly and jittery.
I waited for their wagon until well after
dusk.
That night, while I was sleeping,
I was awoken by a cold eerie wind.
And,
looking out, I saw strange men,
cursing and filthy, and there were clowns,
setting up
their dreary tent."
I'm 2 dope and I sport tight wranglers.
Don't say a word or I'll kick
ya in the neck bitch.
Everybody round, make way for the clown,
In New York, in LA, in
southwest town.
Walked into El Rays, almost got my ass kicked.
Rather just chill in the
yard in my casket.
Call up the hoe's have 'em swing by the tomb,
And get a little stinky
stank up in this bitch.
Killer clowns kicked out the circus.
Used to get loud let the
midget ladies work this.
I was a freak show,
they called me the pogo.
I can make my
ballsack bob like a yoyo.
"Give it up! Give it up!"
Southwest looney tune,
Killed
another red neck found his head in looney dune,
Gooney boon,
gooney goon,
I can hear
the loons in my head as I sing my wicked song.
The Show Must Go On.
"I've never been
afraid of clowns but these clowns were different.
There was nothing funny about these clowns at
that.
The smiled, they juggled, they laughed,
but yet something was terribly, terribly,
wrong.
I didn't like these clowns for I could see through them,
I knew what they were
really like.
I knew that this carnival that had come to my village was an evil,
evil
thing."
(Chorus):
Come see the show,
big top show,
Walk hand in hand with
the dead carnival.
Dead carney, carnies,
dead juggalos.
Walk hand in hand with the
dead carnival.
You ask do we gangbang,
do we bang in a gang,
Do we
bang-bang?
I'm a gang banger, man!
I bang in a gang, mang.
You can suck my wang,
mang.
Richie-boy, bitchie-boy, it's a southwest thing.
Serial murderer, southwest
maniac,
Slaughterer, lunatic, highschool brainiac,
Straight A school boy, School kid
'
Till I went to school and tried to murder everyone,
The Show Must Go On.
"My
innocent friends were fools, all of them.
Totally unaware of the evilness within the
clowns.
Their eyes reflected stairways into hell,
their faces covered in blood.
I ran
from the carnival grounds and yet every road
and every path lead me right back to the big
tent.
I had to escape from the strongman,
the freak shows, and the
Ringmaster..."
(Chorus) x2
Heh heh heh heh!
HAH HAH HAH HAH
HAH!
[Telephone rings] "Yello?"
"Speak ta... Chicken
Neck?"
"Who?"
"Chicken neck."
"Nobody by that name here."
"What about Chicken
Balls?"
"Nope."
"What about Chicken fuckin' Gizzard Throat, is he there?"
"Look boy,
you got the wrong number."
[Telephone clicks] [Telephone rings] "What the...?
Hello?!"
"Speak ta Rednuts?"
"Who?"
"Redballs, Willie Redneck Balls, is he
there?"
"Goddamnit!"
[Telephone clicks] [Telephone rings] "Lemme get dis!
Who in da
hell is dis?!"
"Speak ta Fatboy?"
"WHO IN DA HELL IS DIS?!"
"I wanna speak ta Fat
Redneck fuckin' Chickenboy!
Is he there?"
"Goddamnit!
[Telephone clicks] "Fuckin' no
good bastards!"
[Knock at the door] "Git da damn door!"
"Yeah, I have a delivery for a Mr.
Redneck Fatballs."
"What! You goddamn little!"
[Machine gun firing and broken
glass]
"It's from the wicked clowns..." | | | |
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