Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 17 Dead, artist - Insane Clown Posse. Album song Beverly Kills, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 15.07.1993
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Psychopathic
Song language: English
17 Dead |
I got shot with a buck shot, shot me down |
But you know you can’t paint a frown on a clown |
Sewer gutter blood runs through my system |
Death stopped by but I must have just missed him |
Am I in a southwest street gang? |
Do I bang, do I slang, do I let my motherfuckin' nuts hang? |
But do you care |
I got stabbed in the eye and you wadn’t no where |
And what about the time I got fucked |
When I got shot in the throat… fuckin' sucked |
But you news wouldn’t know me |
You could give a fuck less never the less unless |
Something happened in your suburbs |
I’m a cut your daddy’s neck, you little fuckin' nerd |
I don’t give a fuck where you’re from boy |
So don’t tell me cuz I don’t give a fuck |
It’s all about what’s going on in your head |
Do or don’t you care about the seventeen dead |
Seventeen dead, it don’t bother you |
Do or don’t you care about the seventeen dead |
Seventeen dead, it don’t bother you |
You could give a fuck less about the seventeen dead |
The seventeenth boyfriend lost his erection |
I woke up next to a dead body |
Roll it out the way and jump out of bed |
Strap on my kicks and step out my room |
Cuz somehow there’s another stiff in the bathroom |
Dead fucks all over the grass |
I’m a kick somebody in they dead ass |
Quick to make a left on Jefferson |
And I noticed there’s another stiff riding shotgun |
Am I just seeing things? |
No. |
Is your mother a soggy ho? |
I like to drink Faygo, out from the scotties |
But then one out of one of my homeboys turned into dead bodies |
But I’m straight with that |
Just don’t be leaving your guts in my car n' shit |
Wait a minute, wait, get your head on straight |
I drop seventeen tears from eyes every fucking day |
I gotta wonder if they do |
Should I burn the rebel flag or the red white and blue too |
I can’t do much, but they can |
But those motherfuckers gotta death wish, man |
I’m gonna swim in they blood shed |
Justi-justify the seventeen dead |
Seventeen dead, it don’t bother you |
Do or don’t you care about the seventeen dead |
Seventeen dead, it don’t bother you |
You could give a fuck less about the seventeen dead |
The seventeenth boyfriend lost his erection |
Yeah, dead bodies man |
They ain’t so bad |
I mean they’re all over in the |
Streets n shit ya know |
But they don’t be fuckin' with you |
They just lay there dead as shit |
I mean they tasted kinda straight |
With a little mustard, man |
Yeah, much worse |
Seventeen dead bodies hanging from a telephone wire |
All seventeen on fire |
Lightening up the sky with the smell of death |
Rich bigot fucker, take a deep breath |
Look at you makes me go baddy |
Motherfucker don’t be nothing like your daddy |
Cuz he’s nothing but a redneck hoe |
Him and his kind created this ghetto |
They can deal with they own creation |
Move out farther, suburb vacation |
But it don’t work like that |
Knock at your door and it’s me running slug bat |
I’m a stick it to your fuckin' nugget |
About seventeen times and you’re gonna love it motherfucker |
Drive down my street |
And stare at the folks who can’t make end’s meat |
You don’t know now but that’s the plan |
Most people in Hell were rich when they died, man |
Take that to your golden bed |
Cuz I’m a cut your ass up for the seventeen dead |
Seventeen dead, it don’t bother you |
Do or don’t you care about the seventeen dead |
Seventeen dead, it don’t bother you |
You could give a fuck less about the seventeen dead |
The seventeenth boyfriend lost his erection |
Well, ya know Violent J’s kinda wicked |
If there’s a booger in my nose I’m a pick it |
And flick it in your eye like you ain’t jack |
And stomp my boots on your nutsac |
Well, I’m Shaggy and I’m in the house |
You don’t think so, I’ll put a brick in your mouth |
Can’t nobody flex on a nutty clown |
I got boys down river straight hick town |
Well, ya know I’m coming straight from the trailor park |
That’s me out front working on the Skylark |
I’m waiting on a check, I don’t cut the grass |
And my woman’s got babies falling all out her ass |
I’ll be running with the carnival until I’m eighty |
And tonight I’m going out with the fat lady |
I strip the bitch down to the nitty gritty |
But I ain’t saying shit about a wooden titty |