Insane Clown Posse - West Vernor Ave. lyrics

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 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)
We had to ride down to West Vernor Avenue
(Hey) and open fuckin' fire (Clowns, 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 (Clowns, 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?