Lyrics for the CD "The RingMaster" - Bands - http://maxpages.com/juggalosworld/RingMaster

Wax Museum

Greetings Welcome to the gypsy of fortunes Your coin was very much

appreciated And now I shall grant you your future It seems my cards of

tarot have dealt you a very odd hand A hand of six jokers card, this is

very rare And suggest something neusant is approaching You should be

visited by a dark circus A circus that holds pain and anguish This

travelling mass of evil will leave you corpse to rot While entrapping

your soul to displayed at future stops Oh yes, you should also be aware

that it is your own evil doings That have brought about this carnival's

visit All of the sins and hatred you have cast during your life Have

whipped and spun into form, the form of one One who leads this gruesome

parade of pain into your life One sinister beast, one known only as

RINGMASTER Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the museum, the wax museum

Thousands of dead souls covered in wax All of the rare exhibits you are

about to encounter Are strange and wonderous creations of the one and

the only Leader of them all So both dead and undead please welcome the

R-r-r-ringmaster "Purpose, question, kill" The ICP is of the Ringmaster

And the Ringmaster's of the attutes of mankind G-ya, motherfu**er, now

you gotta face your worst enemy And that's yourself Every wicked thing

you've ever done Has come back now And it's gonna whip your little ass,

bitchboy Us, we're just clowns We just work for the Ringmaster With the

wave of his magic wand I step forward, wind back And swing this battle

axe Upside your motherfu**ing head Hoooo!!! So step right up cause the

R-r-r-ringmaster Takes you on the ride of your life Horror and fear,

smiles and tears And oh everso over do The Ringmaster rises up and lifts

across the sky Through the forest and down the river Along the valley,

over the hill And down the trail and up the sidewalk Only to surprise

you and yours At your very front door Let's go, motherfu**ers!!!

Murder Go Round

What can I say, man, I hit him with the brick Killed the little prick,

him and his chick Tried to be slick but you ain't slinky You're brinky,

you're dinky, you suck my twinkie I don't give a fu** if you call me a

clown Break it on down, it's murder go round What'cha dishing out, I

betcha ya it comes back to ya If you're trying to creep, I'd hate to say

I never knew ya Once upon a time in the ghetto zone A ten-foot led pipe

slapped on my dome I'm laying in the street with blood oozing out my

head Excuse me, motherfu**er, was it something I said Forks up, forks

down, man, forks sideways Then he grabbed my finger and he said crime

pays Swung on his pipe once again for the road "Hold up, dawg," UH! this

shi* gets old Now I walk the streets with a shattered skull I'm gonna

swing my axe to his jaw Where the mYou're brinky, you're dinky, you suck

my twinkie I don't give a fu** if you call me a clown Break it on down,

it's murder go round What'cha dishing out, I betcha ya it comes back to

ya If you're trying to creep, I'd hate to say I never knew ya Once upon

a time in the ghetto zone A ten-foot led pipe slapped on my dome I'm

laying in the street with blood oozing out my head Excuse me,

motherfu**er, was it something I said Forks up, forks down, man, forks

sideways Then he grabbed my finger and he said crime pays Swung on his

pipe once again for the road "Hold up, dawg," UH! this shi* gets old Now

I walk the streets with a shattered skull I'm gonna swing my axe to his

jaw Where the motherfu**er at? Where the motherfu**er stay? How ya gonna

fu** with the juggla Jay-ay-ay There he sits so I knock on the door Pops

opened up...pops hit the floor Then I chop chop pops twice in his nugget

Well, he didn't do shit, fu** it It's the murder go round Well, it's me

and my mellow mellow roll on Military Gangbangers gangbangers, big bang

fairy, kinda scary Tags up all on the bricks Latin Count, X-Men, CFP and

all that shi* We love gangbangers and we hope they love us back We just

some wicked clowns and it's been like that I don't understand why some

people in town We witness your water still southwest down But this

motherfu**er gonna try and clown me But I'm the juggalugalocoro, G Took

a shot and he missed, 2 Dope in the dust "What I ain't got shot,

bitch?", so now you must Take your ticket for the murder go round Can't

nobody kill a click-clack clown Seen him and his boys smoking blunt in a

bucket Pulled out the dagger creeped up and I stuck it Into his head,

into his boy's head Into his boy's head, his boy's head, his boy's head

Five dead fu**s in the trunk on deliver Push that old piece of shi* in

the river The cat and my boys saw five go down Can ya get a free ride?

(No, not again) On the murd

Chicken Huntin

Well, I'm heading down a southern trail, I'm going chicken huntin'

Chopping redneck chicken necks I ain't saying nothing To the hillbilly

stuck my barrel in his eye Boomshacka boomshacka hair jumps in the sky

Why I never liked chicken pot pie? Or the chopped chicken on rye? So

tell Mr. Billy Bob I'm a cut his neck up Slice, poke, chop chop, stab,

cut What can you do with the drunken hillbilly Cut his fu**ing eyes out

and feed em to his Aunt Milly Willy Willy chicken neck, chicken hunting

gotta love it Hit him with the twelve gauge bucket, chicken nuggets Laid

out all over the grass Then his little hound dog will eat em up fast

Last as long as you can my man Cuz when that chicken head hits the fan,

you got Blood guts fingers and toes (3x) Sittin front row at the chicken

show so... Who's going chicken huntin, we's goin' chicken huntin' (3x)

Cut a motherfu**ing chicken up, right! Let me get a chicken sandwich

with manwich I'm finna wreck on a chicken neck Chopping up Hilly and

Billy Bob Billy Cuz I chop motherfu**ing redneck silly Peeked in his

yard and what did I see I seen a chicken boy fu**ing a sheep I say

"Mister Mister, what the fu** you trying to do"

~ Barrels in your mouth, bullets to your

head The back of your neck's all over the shed Boomshacka boom chop chop

bang I'm 2 Dope and it ain't no thang To cut a chicken, trigger's

clickin Blow off his head but his feet still kickin Last as long as you

can my man Cuz when that chicken head hits the fan you got Blood guts

fingers and toes (3x) Sittin front row at the chicken show so... Who's

going chicken huntin, we's goin' chicken huntin' (3x) Cut a

motherfu**ing chicken up, right! Went to Kentucky, I got lucky Met this

hot-collared bitch named Bucky Riding on a chicken, milking a cow Hittin

switches in a drop top low ride tractor plow Redneck fella, moonshine

sella Hang him by his neckbones, chicken bones Locked in the cellar,

yellow belly chicken plucker You redneck fu**er! Who's going chicken

huntin, we's goin' chicken huntin' (3x) Cut a motherfu**ing chicken up,

right!

Mr. Johnson's Head

Sitting in the class with my head on the desk Teacher's trying to talk

but I could give a fu** less I'm staring at the freak that I know I'm in

love with But she don't even know my name it's always been the same I

just lay my head down and drown in my spit Nobody even notices I'm here

cuz I ain't shi* I hear voices but I don't know what they saying Sweat

is on my forehead cuz my brain's inside decaying And this bitch that I

love probably don't have no idea She's talking to her friends I'm in the

corner and I see her Something's happening but it isn't very clear

Sounds like a bell, sounds like an electric chair Next thing I know

walking in the crowded hall So many different faces that I throw up on

the wall Some are yelling "sick" and the others stop and stare But I

don't care, I'm in a hurry going nowhere See, my head is spinning cuz

I'm lonely and I'm twisted But I have a secret everybody missed it Just

a nobody and I think it's a drag But I got Mr. Johnson's head in my

bookbag I couldn't stand the pressure, not another day I didn't like the

fu**er Mr. Johnson anyway I sat up in his class, he hung a rebel flag I

cut the bigots head off and I stuffed it in my bag I wish somebody knew

me cuz then they could say I'm wrong But since nobody knows me I got it

going on I'm staring at the clock, I listen for the tock I gotta couple

food stamps folded in my sock I guess I'm just a ghost cuz everybody

walks through me If I died in class they would probably say they knew me

Or they wouldn't care, they wouldn't even move A dead body rotting in

the back of the room For weeks and months, stinking up the class Until

somebody noticed then they throw me in the trash I can hear the teacher

man talking about Columbus He nothing but an old dead fu** with a

compass Ran up on a beach and threw everybody off And then he claimed

discovery and now we all applaud I don't give a fu** to learn your uncle

went to hell I'm trapped in mind and my brain is my cell But I have a

key, it's called insanity I stick in my brain to unlock eternity Just a

nobody and I think it's a drag But I got Mr. Johnson's head in my

bookbag I couldn't stand the pressure, not another day I didn't like the

fu**er Mr. Johnson anyway I sat up in his class, he hung a rebel flag I

cut the bigots head off and I stuffed it in my bag "Okay, today we're

gonna learn about A Great Freedom. If you'll turn your textbooks to

Chapter Four we'll get started. America's the land of the free, we all

live together in the same wealthy community and we are alternate equals.

Yes?" "Man, Mr. Johnson already taught us this. Ain't he ever coming

back?" "Uh, uh, he's, uh, very ill right now." No, they can sit and

front about it all day But I left his fu**ing body in the hallway And in

the morning they opened up the door And seen his motherfu**ing carcass

laying on the floor But they would never suspect me I'm just a nerd I

try to speak my word, it always goes unheard I could chop my arms off

and run around the class I doubt they'd even notice, but I'd be dying

fast Cuz they'd rather learn about redneck chicker Who owned a couple

slaves but I guess it doesn't matter Fuck Washington, Benjamin, fu** em

all ah They can suck my nuts till they wood teeth fall out And the class

wanna know who could it be But I'm like Dewey Boodie, you ain't never

heard of me I'm just a nobody and I think it's a drag But I got his

motherfu**ing melon chilling in my bookbag I couldn't stand the

pressure, not another day I didn't like the fu**er Mr. Johnson anyway I

sat up in his class, he hung a rebel flag I cut the bigots head off and

I stuffed it in my bag

Southwest Song

Good people sometimes think bad things Good people dream bad things,

don't you Good people even do bad things Once in a while, we do Factory

smoke and choke in pain Cuz Del Ray funk is in my brain So I break the

law but I'm not to blame You only know my place, you don't know my name

Well, I grip the fence and bent the steal And I steal a car and I grip

the wheel And I park the car then I steal it again Cuz I really don't

know what's happening I wait for night to fall then I walk outside And

then I run back in cuz I don't wanna die You see, the air alone, it can

corrupt your brain As smoke fills the sky enough to block the rain And I

pray to God to help me justify Look over me cuz my brain is fried And I

don't have a name, I don't have a home I just lay alone on my bed of

stone You see, death awaits me on my narrow path And when I stop to

think I can only laugh Because I'm not alone, it didn't take me long To

see everybody singing that southwest song Wooooooo Oh We-oh Everybody

singing that southwest song Some say I'm real and some say I'm fake But

I really don't care cuz it's all too late You see, my mind is weak and

I'm losing breath As I crawl along I can feel the death Everywhere I go

I bring with me pride And then I pay the carny and I take a ride But

see, the wheel is wicked and it spins me death So I try it again with

what pride is left If we have to go then you can take me fast You see, I

started under and I'm sinking fast And when the joker's card is missing

from your deck Then you know the road has finally caught my neck Eh, yo,

don't look, now, there we go again It's me and the grim reaper, best of

friends He's always hanging round waitin for me to die We shot a game of

pool, he's not a bad guy I feel him in the corner of a circled room At

about thirteen in the afternoon And then I see the strain as I walk

along I notice everybody singing that southwest song Wooooooo Oh We-oh

Everybody singing that southwest song What does seem bad to you? I'm

angry... What does seem bad to you? I'm angry Everybody singing that

southwest song If my time has come, then I'm ready to go Shoot me in the

face with your forty-four And when I'm falling down to my soury death

I'll laugh with my very last breath (hahaha) Lose some, win some, that's

how it goes I've been down and out, I took many blows And there ain't

nothing here I ain't seen before I'm just a jugglin juggla jugglin more

You wanna see the world, you wanna run the town You wanna meet a girl

and wanna settle down You wanna start a family and ya own a home I wanna

run with a set from the ghetto zone You see the forks up, I see the

forks down But I'm a wicked clown, so don't fu** around Cuz my brain is

gone and it's on it's way I'm exploding, so get off me, dog!!! And I

could be right and I could be wrong And if I ain't dead now then it

won't be long But it does not matter what set you on Tonight everybody

sings that southwest song Wooooooo Oh We-oh Everybody singing that

southwest song What seems bad to you? Is hitting other kids?

Get Off me, Dawg

Yo, 2 Dope, man, check this out, man You know what the word on the

streets is, dawg The word on the streets is that you a bitch What's up

with that, man? Motherfu**ers tweek, gotta tweek while ya tweek Golley

guy's rhythm, cuz me on mic, my on meek Get off me, dog, before I sting

your chin I let my nutsac flap in the wind Cuz I'm 2 Dope, clown loco G,

And it's one chop, two boing, three In the melon, in the back of the

melon One black, two black eyeballs swelling Always back with stickin,

taking back what's more to lordy Sippin on the blunt, puffing on the 40

Or the O-Z, muthafu** me Fuck Stuart Frankie, they call me Jelly jello

boy cuz my nutsac jiggles And when it's cold out, my nutsac shrivles And

crawls at my booty all warm and snug And gets chased out by the booty ho

bug Goddamn, I ain't who I am I'm always fu**ing fat bitches named Pam

Nineteen years of breathing smog Has got me mental So get off me,

dog!...

Who asked You?

Wicked clowns, wicked clowns Drank my last cup of dead body stew Paint

my face, creep up and say BOO! Nobody knows what I'm about Walk around

town with my guts hanging out Chewin on toes, fu**in dead hoes Bark at

the moon everytime the wind blows Why do I do the things that I do? Who

are you? Fu** you, and fu** Jerry Lou too Fu**ed your mother at the

Motel 8 Fingers in her booty, strawberry shake Daddy walks in and see

the sick clown Moving his butt-cheeks up and down Nate the Mack and Jump

Steady Rude Boy, Regis, Kathy Lee I make rap rhymes and make quick bucks

And everybody sucks my nuts, shucks Fuck Jazzy Jeff, fuck Jack Jones

Fuck Jazzy Jiff Jeff Jimmy Jack Jones Why do we do the things that we

do? Who the motherfu** asked you, uh? Why do we do the things that we

do? Roses ain't red and violet's ain't blue Why do we do the things that

we do? Wicked rhymes, wicked times, you too Never had life, always been

dead Gotta metal plate in the back of my head Lemon drops, lick

lollipops I fu** redneck bitches at truck stops Clown cutters, much

clown luv Found a body in the bathtub, mmm grub Fuck the police, fuck

Ebin Price Fuck cop pork chop jiffy pop cops Grew another head and I had

it lopped off But we still cool, what's up, (what's up, dawg)

Tock-ticky-tock I pack a pig clock My dingaling swings when I run down

the block No, I don't sing in a rock band "Gotta smoke, dude, what's up,

man" Fu** John Wayne, fu** Wayne Newton Fu** two-snooting John Hootin

nanny pooping Why do we do the things that we do? Now who the fu** asked

you, bitch? Why do we do the things that we do? Roses ain't red and

violet's ain't blue Why do we do the things that we do? Wicked rhymes,

wicked times, you too

The Dead One

"You tried to stop me, remember? You tried to deface your own creation

But I stopped you Did it hurt, did you feel pain?" Guess it all began

when the bullet finally struck And I walked away harmless, it must of

been good luck Or maybe I'm dead, I'm sorry but you're dead Maybe I

outta go anyway Strange things have happened since this day accord A can

hear a cold whisper in my every word It's telling me I'm dead, I'm sorry

but you're dead (no) Maybe I outta go anyway I'm feeling so stiff as I

walk out the house My tongue's so dry, think it's rotting in my mouth

Oh, tell me am I dead? I'm sorry but you're dead ("it hurts") Life goes

on for some My boys all stare at me I wonder what they think They don't

blink and my teeth keep popping out I stink Oh, tell me am I dead? I'm

sorry but you're dead I don't wanna die, maybe I outta go if I'm dead My

soul is so heavy that it draws me to the floor I can hear these demons

knocking at my door They're laughing at the dead, I'm sorry but you're

dead (no) I don't wanna die, if you're dead, you're dead I don't wanna

die...you're dead, not yet now... I don't wanna die...maybe I outta go

You're dead...I'm not goin' now... I don't wanna die, maybe I outta go

Not yet now... I don't wanna die... I'm dead... I don't wanna die...

you're dead not yet you're dead... not yet i speak YOU'RE DEAD, BITCH

HAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!

My Fun House Rich boy's in trouble Car broke down on a drive through the

ghetto All the weird people, you gotta get the fu** 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 fu** 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 fu** 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, fu** 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 motherfu**ing 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 motherfu**er 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 t

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