Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Guts On The Ceiling, artist - Insane Clown Posse. Album song Carnival Of Carnage, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.10.1992
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Psychopathic
Song language: English
Guts On The Ceiling |
Oh, you’ll never guess what’s up My mucking head blew up My chins in an old man’s backyard |
I gotta sneak threw his yard |
To find the fothermucker |
And he’s gotta pitbull dog |
And it’s sitting on my chin like a frog on a log |
I throw a bone to try to distract |
Cuz I’m wanting my chinny-chin-chin back |
I’ll never be one to boast |
But there’s my tongue hanging off the lightpost |
Cuz my head exploded |
And my brains unloaded |
All over this beautiful city |
Teeth and bones to the nitty gritty |
There’s my eyeball stuck to the wall |
Right next to my splattered jaw |
I don’t dig this game |
Chasing my brains all through the sewer drains |
My head’s all over the block |
Cuz I done went lunatick-tock tick-tock |
Come on, dawg, what’s wrong with my head? |
It blew apart but I still ain’t dead |
I get no respect |
I got nothing but guts hanging off my neck |
But I’ll still chilling |
Even with my blood and guts all over the ceiling |
I’m chillin', I’m illin' |
With my guts all over the ceiling |
(Chorus X4) I’m chillin, I’m illin |
With my guts all over the ceiling |
Oh, you’ll never guess what’s up My mucking back blew up If you come across a spine |
Best believe it’s mine |
Oh, forget about my tongue |
Cuz vato can’t breathe without no lungs |
I lost both of mine |
Now that’s an item that I wouldn’t mind to find |
But forget about dat |
Cuz I’m roaming the streets with a splattered back |
I’m trying to rap to this freak |
But she can see my ribs all in the street |
Then the chit-chat went dead |
She noticed that I ain’t got no head |
Shhh, I think I hear my heart |
But damn, it got hit by a Smark bus |
And landed in Pontiac |
So I tell my mellow to send it back |
Come on, wined and my back blow up Look for my guts, look for my guts |
I gotta call from Nate the Mack |
Says he might of found part of my back |
Then bring it on over, ace |
I got slabs all over the place |
But I’m still chillin' |
Even with my blood and guts all over the ceiling |
You’ll never guess what’s up Ahh, I’m down on my luck |
Got no head |
Said I got no head |
Southwest ghetto zone |
It done fried my brain |
(Chorus until fade) |