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lirik lagu insane clown posse - chicken huntin' (original recipe)

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[intro]
~harmonica~

[verse 1: violent j, sh~ggy 2 dope, both]
well, i’m headed down a southern trail, i’m going chicken huntin’
chopping redneck chicken necks, i ain’t saying nothing
to the hillbilly, stick my barrel in his eye
boomshacka boomshacka, hair chunks in the sky
why, i, never liked chicken pot pie
or the chopped chicken on rye
tell mr. billy bob i’ma cut his neck up
slice, poke, chop chop, stab, cut
what can you do with the drunken hillbilly?
cut his f~ckin’ eyes out and feed ’em to his aunt nilly
w~lly w~lly chicken neck, chicken huntin’ gotta love it
hit him with the twelve gauge bucket, chicken nuggеts
laid out all over the grass
then his littlе hound dog will eat ’em up fast
last as long as you can, my man
’cause when that chicken head hits the fan, you got
blood, guts, fingers and toes
blood, guts, fingers and toes
blood, guts, fingers and toes
sittin’ front row at the chicken show, so

[chorus]
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
cut a motherf~ckin’ chicken up! (right!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
cut a motherf~ckin’ chicken up! (right!)
[verse 2: sh~ggy 2 dope, sh~ggy 2 dope & violent j]
let me get a chicken sandwich with manwich
i’m finna wreck on a chicken neck
choppin’ up hilly and billy bob billy
’cause i chop motherf~ckin’ rednecks silly
peeped in your yard, tell me, what did i see?
i seen a chicken boy f~ckin’ a sheep
i say “mister mister, what the f~ck you trying to do?”
~unintelligible speech~
barrels in your mouth, bullets to your head
the back of your neck’s all over the shed
boom, shocka boom, chop chop bang
i’m 2 dope and it ain’t no thang
to cut a chicken, trigger’s cl!ckin’
blow off his head, but his feet still kickin’
last as long as you can, my man
’cause when that chicken head hits the fan, you got
blood, guts, fingers and toes
blood, guts, fingers and toes
blood, guts, fingers and toes
sittin’ front row at the chicken show, so

[chorus]
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
cut a motherf~ckin’ chicken up! (right!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
cut a motherf~ckin’ chicken up! (right!)
[interlude: sh~ggy 2 dope]
hey! let it be known, the wicked clowns is in the haughhh! and we don’t like no gizzard~neck bunch of bad chicken b~tches in yo’ hood! ~gunshot~ you redneck m~th~f~cka! ~coughing~

[verse 3: violent j & sh~ggy 2 dope]
i went to kentucky, i got lucky
met this hog~callin’ b~tch named bucky
riding on a chicken, milking a sow
hittin’ switches in a drop top low ride tractor plow
redneck fella, moonshine sella
hang him by his neck bone, chicken bones locked in the cellar yellow belly chicken plucker
you redneck f~cka!

[chorus]
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
who’s going chicken huntin’? (we’s goin’ chicken huntin’!)
cut a motherf~ckin’ chicken up! (right!)


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