Insane Killers Lyrics - Forgotten Freshness Vol. 3 - Insane Clown Posse

Violent J, Shaggy, Insane Clown Posse, baby, what? 

From New York to L.A., from Chile to Greece 

From New Ghandi to your momma 

We gives absolutely no fucks, motha fucka 

Natural born serial murderers 

Mass mothafuckin' murderin' murderers 

Bitch, come and meet your maker 

I'm scary like Michael Jackson up close 

I like diggin' up dead bodies, look at me I'm gross 

My name's Violent J but you can call me syphilis 

Gonorrhea the clap 'cause I infected this rap 

You wanna know if I could ever kill somebody 

Well, that's like askin' Charlie Manson if he's ever been in jail 

I kill family, friends, myself, what? 

Yeah, I'd kill myself if I could only survive 

I tried to kill Rob Van Winkle, in fact that's how we met 

I went up to kill him and he was thinkin' the same shit 

I pulled out a chainsaw, he pulled out and axe 

I was like, "Come on, wait, is that a Stanley? Where'd you get that? 

It's natural and to murder, you gotta have it in you 

It's like a dick all up in you although I wouldn't now 

Look at us natural killas 

The world most playa hated rapper 

And the most hated group together like woo 

Mass murders, natural born killas 

I'm not fuckin' around 

Icky, icky, ya, ya, icky, icky, ya, ya 

Mass murders, natural born killas 

I'm not fuckin' around 

Icky, icky, ya, ya, icky, icky, ya, ya 

This ain't no blair witch, beware bitch 

I'll pick your motherfuckin' brain with an icepick 

Remember me, the V I C E 

Well, here's my trilogy, I'm outta captivity 

Rap Cujo, ya know my flow is ferocious 

Last survivor with a mouth full of cockroaches 

I bring this hocus pocus, you're flying away 

Like the last days of the motherfuckin' loafers 

I'm the redneck in the moshpit, two axes come in handy 

To answer Violent J, ya damn right it's a Stanley 

In the shadows of the dark with Darkman like Spawn 

In the dash blazin' it up with explosive bombs 

I spit homicides like major cities at 11PM 

While zipping bodies in the dungeon like the line at GM 

Ice mixed with blood is the killers milkshake 

Here with the clowns from the underground it's a lyrical death break 

Mass murders, natural born killas 

I'm not fuckin' around 

Icky, icky, ya, ya, icky, icky, ya, ya 

Mass murders, natural born killas 

I'm not fuckin' around 

Icky, icky, ya, ya, icky, icky, ya, ya 

Disrespect me, I'll run in your house 

Like puffin' steam stout 

Break both your arms, gun in your mouth 

Knock your teeth out with the nose of the fifth 

Bullets bust through the back of your head ya die swift 

Fuckin' wit tha clan, watch what you say 

We kill, beep, lame lyric censor 

Shoot you with an SK or a AK 

Bitch, you gonna die either way 

I'm a monster thoroughbred gun holding weed-head 

Cross me bet tomorrow you'll be dead 

Catch you at a show while you're chillin' with your ho 

And crack your skull with a bottle of Mo 

I'm a Sing-Sing killer gun groove captain 

Brooklyn home of the original gun clappin' 

Gats get brung, niggas get done 

Sons lose fathers and mothers lose sons, I'm a killer 

Mass murders, natural born killas 

I'm not fuckin' around 

Icky, icky, ya, ya, icky, icky, ya, ya 

Mass murders, natural born killas 

I'm not fuckin' around 

Icky, icky, ya, ya, icky, icky, ya, ya 

To die is a fate that must come to us all 

But how horrible to be buried alive 

From the darkness they shuffle eyes glazed with death 

Hands clawing for blood 

Mass murders, natural born killas 

I'm not fuckin' around 

Icky, icky, ya, ya, icky, icky, ya, ya 

Mass murders, natural born killas 

I'm not fuckin' around 

Icky, icky, ya, ya, icky, icky, ya, ya 

Mass murders, natural born killas 

Icky, icky, ya, ya, icky, icky, ya, ya 

Mass murders, natural born killas