Teksty piosenek / I / ICP (Insane Clown Posse) / The Show Must Go On

ICP (Insane Clown Posse) - The Show Must Go On

Tekst piosenki:

Awwwwwwwwww, Shit! Yo, check it out, man, ICP back in the haugh man!
  Violent-J, man, 2 Dope, man, wicked clownz, 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 lick it down, man up till my nuts start singing, dancing, hopping,
  I'm a 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 wackets until well after dusk. That night, while I was sleeping, I was awoken by a glow appearing. 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 live 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 fun,
  His head a 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 all. 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."
  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.
  (End chorus)
  You ask do we gang, do we bang in a gang, mang?
  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.
  "Aged friends are fools, all of them. Totally unaware of the evilness within the carnival. 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..."
  Heh heh heh heh!
  "Speak ta... Chicken Neck?"
  "Chicken neck."
  "Nobody by that name here."
  "What about Chicken Balls?"
  "What about Chicken fuckin' Gizzard Throat, is he there?"
  "Look boy, you got the wrong number."
  "What the...? Hello?!"
  "Speak ta Rednuts?"
  "Redballs, Willie Redneck Balls, is he there?"
  "Lemme git dis! Who in da hell is dis?!"
  "Speak ta Fatboy?"
  "I wanna speak ta Fat Redneck fuckin' Chickenboy! Is he there?"
  "Goddamnit! ~click~ Fuckin' no good bastards!"
  ~knock knock knock knock~
  "Git da damn door!"
  "Yeah, I have a delivery for a Mr. Redneck Fatballs."
  "Whut! You goddamn little!"
  ~Machinegun shots and breaking glass~
  "It's from the wicked clowns..."

Lyrics - Nieruchomości - Torebki