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