| Song | Guts On The Ceiling |
| Artist | Insane Clown Posse |
| Album | Carnival Of Carnage |
| 作词 : Bruce | |
| 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 | |
| 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 | |
| I'm chilling, i'm illing | |
| With my 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 | |
| I'm chilling, i'm illing | |
| With my guts all over the ceiling |
| zuò cí : Bruce | |
| 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 chinnychinchin 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 lunaticktock ticktock | |
| 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 | |
| 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 chitchat 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 | |
| I' m chilling, i' m illing | |
| With my 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 | |
| I' m chilling, i' m illing | |
| With my guts all over the ceiling |