Wicked Rappers Delight - Insane Clown Posse

Fiends of the wicked shit it’s time to get high

Bump your fucking shit up put some wicked shit by

Detroit legendary demon loop of terror

Staring at you right back with your eyes in the mirror

Blowin' out your brain spontaneous combustion

Lyrics like a mural in each ear and I’m bustin'

Fire breathing wicked shit and meltin' microphones

Blowin' speakers into flames setting fire to your home

How many times you gonna say I need help

Who gives a fuck if I murder myself

I’m thinkin' suicidal thoughts I shot a gay preacher

I didn’t do my homework, so I shot my teacher

I dropped out the next day, fuck a GED

Then I went and clowned the industry with ICP

Threw up the 313, to let you know it’s me

Esham’s dope ho, I’m the king of the D

I stole a fuckin' firetruck and drove it through a Wendy’s

All that happened to me was a bullet in the kidneys

I almost died death will look at me I’m right again

What’s really happening reality is pretend

You can blow my fuckin' head off I’ll just grow another

My brain and myself, we don’t even know each other

Someone’s in the darkness crawling out of my closet door

That’s what the nines in the mattress for

Warlocks and witches come and learn from the master

The walls in my home feature bodies in the plaster

They’re dead but stickin out like Han Solo when he froze

With my favourite weapons hangin off they fingers and toes

Wicked pimpin' scary bitches living or dead

All with vampire fangs and they givin' me head

Like cemetery girls bat dance boogie woogie betty

Her neden’s big and blew out like a plate of spaghetti

I’m out cold all my teeth gold plus I don’t brush em

Quarter back sneakin' plus mo key if you rush em

Bust 'em down, bust 'em up steady fuckin' 'em up

But wait why do I have all this blood on my hands

Blood on my clothes blood on my shoes I’m on the ten o’clock news

For steady, murderin' crews and they point of views

Like, purple chronic mixed with acid demonics

And a stomach full of Jagermeister ready to vomit

Mirror mirror on the wall tell us who the wicked are

Shaggy, E and J we in the game and gettin' ours

Hittin' stars in they mouth and boltin' off wicked ready

With necklaces wicked reckless, nobody expects this

Bumpin' this wicked shit homeboy you’re braindead

I can fly a motherfuckin neg on your head, breakin'

And tie your fuckin' feet up to your neck

And shoot you in the back watch and kick you down the steps

I blow a crator in the side of your head

Do the same to your missus while y’all sleeping in bed

Double murder robbery, just another job to me

Rollin' in a stolen Buick hookers slobbin' me

Known through the farmlands as a do gooder wicked

Always shootin the biggots, and kicking the chickens

Askin' me the wrong question also triggers my disease

They’ll find your body in Compton and head in Hollis Queens

The phone broke and on the other side was the president

I can’t talk right now I’m on the toilet taking a shit

Hung up the phone I think my cover’s blown I’m deep cover

Your wife ordered a pizza from me she got the meatlovers

I’m Johnny Bravo the other black rio get at me ho

I make these ho’s happy tho, cause I’m they pappy oh

It’s too soon for you to be on my team

But give R. Kelly a call, I think he like 'em thirteen

I once met a hooker and she did it for free

On the west verner bus number seventy three

All the way in the back she was humping on me

Until I strangled the bitch and stuffed her under my seat

I got off at my stop without so much as a drop of blood

But then I realized I forgot to wear gloves

Now I’m chasing the bus my fingerprints are on her neck

STOP!

AND GIVE ME MY DEAD BITCH BACK

Fucking dead bitches on a ouiji board all night

Busting off shots in the club we all fight

Hanging motherfuckers by they neck off of streetlights

With they legs cut off trying to read me rights, shiit

I’ll whip my cd at you stick it in your face

Halfway sticking out but look it still plays

I stomp when I rap and I shake the whole block

Stick my dick in your ear so you can see what I got

I was one of those monsters from the video «Thriller»

Known to the world as the pop star killer

And from another park from the ground I arose

I’m the crusty ass booger hanging out of your nose

I’m the stink on your toes, I’m the weed to your rose

Not one of your friends but I’m one of your foes

And spitting the wicked shit is the life I chose

Do a spin grab my nuts and then b-boy pose

Can you walk for some tic tac bloody message on the board

On your chest and take turns shootin the rest

I win everytime need to be like good with every bomb

And off with your head if you’re in the way of getting mine

This is Esham and the wicked clowns from the vault

We come flying out the dark with the triple gold salt

I threw a snowball so hard it replaced your eye

It melted and left a fucking hole when it dried

Wicked Rappers Delight

Esham & ICP we wicked rappers delight