Yea (Hehehe) This the big homie (Wicked Clowns) Still don't play that sh** (That's me) (Homie) Yeah I'm a clown (wicked, Wicked man) Well guess what Dead clown why you mad You sad, you should be glad I got chopped off heads stuffed in my duffel bag Dead clown why you mad You sad, you should be glad I got chopped off heads stuffed in my duffel bag I got chopped off heads in ma bag they stuffed With they eyes sewn up And there mouths sewn shut Don't talk to me I k** em all the time Take out there brains and I play with they minds Take yo eyes out ya head So you can see what I'm sayin Body decayin Paint ya face I'm sprayin The murder d**h machine They call me evil knievel Paint up ma face and start serial k**in people A sick pyschopath dead bodies they stink A voodoo witch doctor
Shocka locka ya head shrink A known sickle The grim reaper with the sickle They stab in my eye Hehe that only tickle But it made me mad So I k**ed ya mommy and dad Blood soaked my clothes like a maxi-pad All the k**in I can't stop the k**in All the k**in Everytime I stabbed in the face I got a happy feelin Dead clown they say I thought you was dead clown How can he be alive And he's choppin off heads now The curse of homie came back an omen the unholy You soft like a creampuff Call you a canoli I put heads in flower pots With bodies they rot No other k**er clown got more bodies then I got f** the police Cause they don't know my identity The preacher can't save you at the church No serenity Homie the clown Spit the wicked sh** when it's me