| I’m Violent J, Papa Killjoy, I can’t be fixed
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| I’m a crooked ass clown with some filthy tricks
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| I killed hot bitches out there but I grow weed plants
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| So every time I hit the blunt
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| It’s like I’m hitting that ass
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| And I’m Shaggy, throwing heads in the air by the hair
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| I bounce them off my heals while people cough they meals
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| I kick heads like soccor balls and do tricks with them
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| I get hotter than a globetrotter, twirling and spinning
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| [Violent J
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| I sick with it with a sword, I can balance and stand on it
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| Killed many men, one swing in the end
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| I’m so quick you won’t see shit but the guy’s eyes wiggling
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| And me in the Bruce Lee stance giggling
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| I rob liquor stores at night when the workers are tired
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| I run up in that bitch swinging chainsaws on fire
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| And I can balance on a ball while juggling all your limbs
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| While rest of you is chained up in a chair watching him
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| Under the big top
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| We have so many tricks to show you (Come down)
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| So many freak shows to go to (Come down)
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| So many eyeballs to throw
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| Your soul you’re quick to drop
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| Under the big top
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| This wicked shit we flow to (Come down)
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| So many dead souls we go through (Come down)
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| Inside Hell’s Pit they throw you
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| Let the fire get to know you
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| Violent J is a man that can end your life
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| And then wear your slippers and fuck your wife
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| You get a pie in the face, a fucking pie in the face
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| Then you get cut up and sent to your momma in a suitcase
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| Bitch I’m Shaggy clear outta my squares
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| I ride a bike backwards in my underwears
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| I tell human stories to ghosts and I dead the awake
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| Plus I’m trapped in the other side of the mirror I think
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| Twenty five chairs stacked up, I’m on the top
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| Fucking balancing on my head, I’m about to drop
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| And I’m holding up a bear on my foot that juggaling
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| All six in the mix, will this be the end?
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| This will the end of my dick all up in another bitches ass
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| Wicked clowns will make the wicked shit last
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| And I kick a dick’s ass trying to stop the shit
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| Icepick to your temple than pop your shit
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| Under the Big Top
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| I’m Violent J’s a juggla, pillow faced smuggla
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| You recognize my voice? |
| I’m in a ski mask mugging ya
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| I can walk on stilts 900 feet high
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| And than drop a dart down straight into your eye
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| Well I’m Shaggy Shaggs, I went from rags to rags
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| And I’ve received many meals out your garbage bags
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| I can do backflips all the way up a wall
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| Swinging an axe, that was the last thing that you saw
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| I can slit your throat from across the room
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| Throwing a Joker’s Card under the light of the moon
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| And then I hook my feet onto your swinging ceiling fan
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| With two swords and yell for everybody else to come in
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| You can split me in the middle or saw straight down
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| You have two one legged halves of me jumping around
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| You can cut them in half, you have four of us fuckers
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| My limbs all crawling and attacking like brothers
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| Under the big top |