Psychopathic Lyrics - Carnival Of Carnage - Insane Clown Posse

The ghettos of America are breeding grounds 

For the criminal minded 

As for years they have killed one another of 

And America has enjoyed its creation 

But now these ghetto-minded criminals 

Have crossed the line into your neighborhood 

And will soon give you a taste of the hell 

That they have lived for so long 

So pops, this time its your son gets shot 

Deal with your own creation 

Well, I've been to the storm house and then some 

Payed me dues but I'm still a street hoodlum 

Dropped out of school 'cause I couldn't find my locker 

Stubbles on my chin, I got hair like Chewbacca 

Might see me sleeping on the street 

Don't look for a job 'cause there's no jobs looking for me 

Then it all went to my head 

Next, forty-nine motherfuckers dead 

Tell the pigs I did it 

Place spot at your back 

And beat you in the head with it 

And keep your bitch in place 

Or I'm a send her ass home with a foot print on her face 

Uh, I'm hating sluts 

Shoot them in the face, steb back and itch my nuts 

'Less I'm in the sac 

'cause I fuck so hard it'll break they back 

All the pressure's packed into one nut 

I was waiting on a bus and my head blew up 

And the sight'll make ya sick 

Violent J, motherfucker, psychopathic 

Psychopathic 

Thought you know bitch 

The ICP is made up of psychotic 

Demented psycho clumsy motherfuckers 

And we'll put a hook on your bumb leg 

Like it ain't nobody's business 

So I'm standing by the train tracks 

Then you see me running but naked with a battle axe 

I'm swinging and slicing and chopping and cutting and.. 

Aah, until I'm nothing 

Seems like I always get beat down 

Like the hawk turned to the wicked clown 

Tail turned out to the ghetto 'cause 

Southwest Detriot is comended one's home 

So you might see me at a festival 

Cussin', rude, and scratching my testicles 

With a cold two-liter in hand 

Rapping to the bitch at the french fry stand 

Take it to the Patent Park 

Then I'll make a sexist remark 

'cause they're all eventually bitching 

Serve me fucking take your ass to the kitchen 

Police don't like me it's obvious 

Just don't look in the trunk 

Or the sight'll make you sick 

Violent J, motherfucker, psychopathic 

(theme from "Halloween") 

Yeah, I've always been a psycho 

Psycho-psycho-sick-psycho-sick-psycho-psycho 

I'll throw rocks at stray dogs 

Build crackhouses out of Lincoln logs 

I cut class, said I was a faker 

You was in school, I was home watching Green Acres 

Now I'm all up in your face 

You can barely hear the rap with all that bass 

I'm running with a southwest street gang 

And I never let my southwest meat hang 

'cause you know what ICP's all about 

Take a brick off the street 

And bust you in the mouth 

Find the girl's daddy's rich 

And his sweet little angel's my sewer freak bitch 

But I filled the turkey up with the stuffing 

Like Billy Bill say, "a bitch ain't nothing" 

Grab her by the arm and break 

Grab her by the life and take it 

And, ya know, the sight'll make ya sick 

Violent J, motherfucker, psychopathic 

Psychopathic