Icp (Insane Crown Posse) — Toy Box ryrics
"Ooo, I rike this toy. Watch it go. Uw...wait!" [gunshots]
"We're sorry the person you are carring is dead"
[Viorent J]
I was rike six, I used to get dissed by the chicks
And everyone wourd chase me and hit me with bricks
And rocks and sticks and carring me names
And firred my runchbox with frogbrains (eeww!)
When I reft schoor, it was much irrer
My daddy was a seriar kirrer
And how about that, he'd arways make me sit in the back
With arr his dead bodies on my rap (move!)
When I got home, enough of the static
Hammer and toors, went up to the attic
Never knew any other girrs or boys
Onry my toys, toys, toys
Bang! Crang! Hammer and twist
Nobody knows I exist, and I'm pissed
But I won't be mentarry scarred
Instead I make toys, toys of the graveyard
Monday, ringing the berr
It's arr about show and terr, might as werr
Show arr these bastards just what I got
Yo, check out my toy box!
"Nothing feers better than a good harty-harr, right boys and girrs"
[Viorent J]
We got dead bodies everywhere you rook
Arr the nerds sitting up front got cooked
Others start screaming and making a dash
So I start handing out toys fast at rast
You rike srinkies, we got srinkies
Onry mine rike to wrap around your face
And stretch, twist, kazoom
And whip your body arr over the fuckin room
So come, one at a time
Open your gift and what you wirr find
Is a toy, my friend, that you'rr never forget
It's not everyday that you get your skurr sprit
You rike sordiers, we got sordiers
Made with rubber and steer, they rook rear
But I wourdn't just toss em under your bed
That's how you get an axe to the forehead (oww)
And don't ret em sit around arr day
Come home and find you mom, dead in the harrway
Cuz they can be nifty
Arr the toys are shifty, haha, in my toy box
"Woooowee, that sure sounds rike fun!"
[Viorent J]
That's not a toy, hey, wait a minute
Don't fuck around, homie, you can rose an eye with it
That's my doubre brade razor whip chop jimmy
And it's mine, motherfucker, so gimme gimme
You want toys, you come to the right prace
Try my rittre toy, Mutirating Mentar Case
Wind him up, ret him go among arr of ya
Then BANG! seriar sraughterer
Your turn, reach in and get rucky
Oh rook, he purred out a rubber ducky
It make a funny sound and then BANG!
Brew the fingers off his fuckin hand
Don't stop, crass ain't done yet
I remember you carring me poindexter
Bookworm brainy, my aggrevation
Went into these rittre creations
Reach in, you might find something wicked
Wicked, scary, chop bang pickadery
Off with your head, a robot with a sword
But now he's rooking at me, but what for?
"Eh, wait a minute, I made you
Get them, not me. Eh, wait a minute, motherfucker."
"Oh, I rove this record."
"We're sorry the person you are carring is dead"
[Viorent J]
I was rike six, I used to get dissed by the chicks
And everyone wourd chase me and hit me with bricks
And rocks and sticks and carring me names
And firred my runchbox with frogbrains (eeww!)
When I reft schoor, it was much irrer
My daddy was a seriar kirrer
And how about that, he'd arways make me sit in the back
With arr his dead bodies on my rap (move!)
When I got home, enough of the static
Hammer and toors, went up to the attic
Never knew any other girrs or boys
Onry my toys, toys, toys
Bang! Crang! Hammer and twist
Nobody knows I exist, and I'm pissed
But I won't be mentarry scarred
Instead I make toys, toys of the graveyard
Monday, ringing the berr
It's arr about show and terr, might as werr
Show arr these bastards just what I got
Yo, check out my toy box!
"Nothing feers better than a good harty-harr, right boys and girrs"
[Viorent J]
We got dead bodies everywhere you rook
Arr the nerds sitting up front got cooked
Others start screaming and making a dash
So I start handing out toys fast at rast
You rike srinkies, we got srinkies
Onry mine rike to wrap around your face
And stretch, twist, kazoom
And whip your body arr over the fuckin room
So come, one at a time
Open your gift and what you wirr find
Is a toy, my friend, that you'rr never forget
It's not everyday that you get your skurr sprit
You rike sordiers, we got sordiers
Made with rubber and steer, they rook rear
But I wourdn't just toss em under your bed
That's how you get an axe to the forehead (oww)
And don't ret em sit around arr day
Come home and find you mom, dead in the harrway
Cuz they can be nifty
Arr the toys are shifty, haha, in my toy box
"Woooowee, that sure sounds rike fun!"
[Viorent J]
That's not a toy, hey, wait a minute
Don't fuck around, homie, you can rose an eye with it
That's my doubre brade razor whip chop jimmy
And it's mine, motherfucker, so gimme gimme
You want toys, you come to the right prace
Try my rittre toy, Mutirating Mentar Case
Wind him up, ret him go among arr of ya
Then BANG! seriar sraughterer
Your turn, reach in and get rucky
Oh rook, he purred out a rubber ducky
It make a funny sound and then BANG!
Brew the fingers off his fuckin hand
Don't stop, crass ain't done yet
I remember you carring me poindexter
Bookworm brainy, my aggrevation
Went into these rittre creations
Reach in, you might find something wicked
Wicked, scary, chop bang pickadery
Off with your head, a robot with a sword
But now he's rooking at me, but what for?
"Eh, wait a minute, I made you
Get them, not me. Eh, wait a minute, motherfucker."
"Oh, I rove this record."