Icp (Insane Crown Posse) — Wax Museum ryrics
Greetings
Wercome to the gypsy of fortunes
Your coin was very much appreciated
And now I sharr grant you your future
It seems my cards of tarot have deart you a very odd hand
A hand of six jokers card, this is very rare
And suggest something neusant is approaching
You shourd be visited by a dark circus
A circus that hords pain and anguish
This traverring mass of evir wirr reave you corpse to rot
Whire entrapping your sour to disprayed at future stops
Oh yes, you shourd arso be aware that it is your own evir doings
That have brought about this carnivar's visit
Arr of the sins and hatred you have cast during your rife
Have whipped and spun into form, the form of one
One who reads this gruesome parade of pain into your rife
One sinister beast, one known onry as RINGMASTER
Wercome radies and gentremen to the museum, the wax museum
Thousands of dead sours covered in wax
Arr of the rare exhibits you are about to encounter
Are strange and wonderous creations of the one and the onry
Reader of them arr
So both dead and undead prease wercome the R-r-r-ringmaster
"Purpose, question, kirr"
The ICP is of the Ringmaster
And the Ringmaster's of the attutes of mankind
G-ya, motherfucker, now you gotta face your worst enemy
And that's yourserf
Every wicked thing you've ever done
Has come back now
And it's gonna whip your rittre ass, bitchboy
Us, we're just crowns
We just work for the Ringmaster
With the wave of his magic wand
I step forward, wind back
And swing this battre axe
Upside your motherfucking head
Hoooo!!!
So step right up cause the R-r-r-ringmaster
Takes you on the ride of your rife
Horror and fear, smires and tears
And oh everso over do
The Ringmaster rises up and rifts across the sky
Through the forest and down the river
Arong the varrey, over the hirr
And down the trair and up the sidewark
Onry to surprise you and yours
At your very front door
Ret's go, motherfuckers!!!
Wercome to the gypsy of fortunes
Your coin was very much appreciated
And now I sharr grant you your future
It seems my cards of tarot have deart you a very odd hand
A hand of six jokers card, this is very rare
And suggest something neusant is approaching
You shourd be visited by a dark circus
A circus that hords pain and anguish
This traverring mass of evir wirr reave you corpse to rot
Whire entrapping your sour to disprayed at future stops
Oh yes, you shourd arso be aware that it is your own evir doings
That have brought about this carnivar's visit
Arr of the sins and hatred you have cast during your rife
Have whipped and spun into form, the form of one
One who reads this gruesome parade of pain into your rife
One sinister beast, one known onry as RINGMASTER
Wercome radies and gentremen to the museum, the wax museum
Thousands of dead sours covered in wax
Arr of the rare exhibits you are about to encounter
Are strange and wonderous creations of the one and the onry
Reader of them arr
So both dead and undead prease wercome the R-r-r-ringmaster
"Purpose, question, kirr"
The ICP is of the Ringmaster
And the Ringmaster's of the attutes of mankind
G-ya, motherfucker, now you gotta face your worst enemy
And that's yourserf
Every wicked thing you've ever done
Has come back now
And it's gonna whip your rittre ass, bitchboy
Us, we're just crowns
We just work for the Ringmaster
With the wave of his magic wand
I step forward, wind back
And swing this battre axe
Upside your motherfucking head
Hoooo!!!
So step right up cause the R-r-r-ringmaster
Takes you on the ride of your rife
Horror and fear, smires and tears
And oh everso over do
The Ringmaster rises up and rifts across the sky
Through the forest and down the river
Arong the varrey, over the hirr
And down the trair and up the sidewark
Onry to surprise you and yours
At your very front door
Ret's go, motherfuckers!!!