insane clown posse - night of the chainsaw (joe strange remix) lyrics
[violent j]
pcp, meth, mad anti-depression pills
everything spills into one pot
on top of that i smoke rock
i hear that sh-t, but i won’t stop
last time on the spot choked a cop
stopped and had a faygo soda pop
in the back of my truck, chuck the chainsaw
usually chop wood, but that ain’t all
it’s a bit strange all up in your mid-range
cut a hole in your head ’till i hit brains
left a cop in the pile while maybe
it’s the night of the chainsaw baby
cut ’em up chuck (somebody)
cut ’em up chuck (get bl–dy)
cut ’em up chuck (go nutty)
cut ’em up chuck (go)
cut ’em up chuck (go)
cut ’em up
[juicy j:]
all my n-ggas got them choppers they can’t wait to shoot
catch you when you check your mail and they let em loose
n-ggas always talking sh-t that they ain’t never do
out here livin lies, must be scared of the truth
b-tch you got me hot, now you a dead man
p-ssy n-gga acting hard on his webcam
money on yo head, yeah i’m the bread man
k!ll you while you with yo b-tch, you dead fam
stop all the hatin, why you jealous my n-gga?
blow your -ss up, the paramedics come and get ya
but they can’t help, n-gga better believe
n-gga got outta line left him dead on the scene
[violent j]
petroleum, inhale it, and take a swig
heat my brains up, bake my wig
k!lling time, with no shirt homie
i love it when the blood squirt on me
walked up to a house, jabbed the door
and kicked it in, my victim hid
stuck chuck in the closet
and i can tell by the deposit, i got my target
french poodle, stomp it limp noodle
rev chuck up and stir the strudel
guts on the lawn, f-ck’s going on?
chainsaw chuck ’till the break of dawn, b-tch!
cut ’em up chuck (somebody)
cut ’em up chuck (get bl–dy)
cut ’em up chuck (go nutty)
cut ’em up chuck (go)
cut ’em up chuck (go)
cut ’em up
[dj paul:]
sitting in my room with my gun c-cked and loaded
put it to my head and i’m bout to explode it
sniffing up some k!lla and i’m headed on some crazy sh-t
yeah i’m gettin high like ?? and i just hit a crazy b-tch
that ain’t the case cause we don’t sweat the old hoes
unless she on her knees giving a n-gga deep throat
you see i can’t cope
with fake n-ggas, fake b-tches, fake playas i cut they f-ckin throat
and i’ll k!ll my motherf-ckin self
before i let one of you n-ggas take the credit for my death
i’ll run up in yo pad with a pocket full of bombs
blow you bums to the motherf-ckin slums
[violent j]
bl–dy feet, no shoes, into a party
i wasn’t invited, but that b-tch ignited
i screamed and laughed, chopping fools in half
i stab and hack, a mad lumberjack
smell that fuel, hear the machine
chuck’s a demon, i must be dreamin’
bl–dy showers, feel the power
we devour you f-ckin’ cowards
a loony loose, chuck full of juice
beggin’s no use, i knows no truce
it’s yo noose about to see your own produce
written by sh-ggy, three six, and joe bruce
cut ’em up chuck (somebody)
cut ’em up chuck (get bl–dy)
cut ’em up chuck (go nutty)
cut ’em up chuck (go)
cut ’em up chuck (go)
cut ’em up
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