West Vernor Ave - Insane Clown Posse

Fight back, fight back

Yeah

So I’m marinating at home, sippin' cheap wine in the recline

I’m on bottle two, so this beast fine

Bitch givin' me a lap dance, but honey heavy

She weigh more than a 3500 Chevy

She lifted her belly, (Bush) wack surprise

Pussy had fro like the Jackson 5

Just then, rounds, rounds, get down

They wanna nix this wicked clown

I took a look, the girl was cooked, her head exploded

Reached for the Uzi at my foot, and I unloaded

But them hoes got away in time

And my bitch headless, but she’ll be fine

I shot back in the passion’s heat

Killed somebody grandma across the street (Damn)

They all gon' die, no, they can’t hide

As soon as we find out who

We gonna ride down to West Vernor Avenue (Hey)

And open fuckin' fire (Clowns, bitch)

We gonna ride down to West Vernor Avenue (Hey)

And burn our fuckin' tires (Whoop, whoop)

The Southwest Side is like Baghdad, yeah

People get killed for a gang rag, yeah

If you’re my enemy, I’ll make your brain hang, yeah

Out the side of your head, big game of tag, huh

You’re it, bitch, «it» being dead

And it was a basehead chick who said

Her brother’s boys, The Murder Rats

Was who tried to kill me, I heard that

Pow, bitch, head paints the wall

Bitch dead, but she ain’t fall

Still propped up, vacant look in her eyes

Death’s quite the surprise

We gonna ride down to West Vernor Avenue (Hey)

And open fuckin' fire (Clowns, bitch)

We gonna ride down to West Vernor Avenue (Hey)

And burn our fuckin' tires (Whoop, whoop)

Looking for revenge, three hours

Where the fuck are these bitch-ass cowards?

Searching the ghetto zone, all sides of it

Like pussy holes, they’re rarely seen in public

We asked Big Red and Meth Head Sally

Yeah, I took a sec and got head in the alley

We went back home, almost got inside

But J called, he found 'em

Shaggy, yo, them cocksuckers tried to kill you (To kill you)

Dumping hot slugs through your home, what the fuck?

Let’s ride and go make some headlines (Some headlines)

Five dead in the ghetto zone, whoop, whoop

Duck low, rode by three times, triple checkin' (It's them!)

And as best we reckon, it’s them

Slangin' that bath salt and that spice

Today, though, bad advice

Four scrubs in a bucket, pullin' up dumpin'

Empty the full clip, quickly bust 'em

Pop, pap, pop, pap, pop, pap (Stop that)

Shot dead all five

We had to ride down to West Vernor Avenue (Hey)

And open fuckin' fire (Move, bitch)

We had to ride down to West Vernor Avenue (Hey)

And burn our fuckin' tires (Whoop, whoop)

Ha-ha-ha-ha

No one even called the police, ha-ha-ha

Dead on the street all damn week, okay

We had to ride down to West Vernor Avenue (Hey)

And open fuckin' fire (Move, bitch)

We had to ride down to West Vernor Avenue (Hey)

And burn our fuckin' tires (Whoop, whoop)

Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh

Willaby’s words of wisdom, bitch

Don’t expect peace and tranquility

Without at least some hostility, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha

And if you’re on easy street, bitch

You’ve got some potholes comin'

Some are gonna be so deep

You can look down 'em and see old Beelzebub himself (Brother)

Pinchin' a hot loaf

Like, what the fuck?