Текст песни My Fun House - Insane Clown Posse
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,
ahh"
"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,
'cuz
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-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
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