Текст песни Wagon Wagon (Insane Clown Posse) с переводом

If I’m gonna die

I’m going out riding the wagon

Hear it comes, the horrifying midnight wagon

Saggin', laggin', dead bodies draggin'

On a piece of string, they flop around and fling

Now shut your ass up and let the juggla sing

It’s the Insane Clown Posse coming through

Looking for the hickies and the prickies and your ass too

Everybody gets a ride in the ghost car

Don’t matter who you are, we going straight to hell

And it ain’t far, Mr. Nevers, you seem to be the kill joy

So get your ass in fat boy!

You can sit up in the front with the Ringmaster

With the ringading-dingalinga-ping-master

And get your motherfucking wind pipe chopped off

And your funky ass body gets dropped off

In the gutter, the wheels keep rollin

Throwin heads out the back, nugget bowlin from the…

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

The exhaust pipe is tripping out a deadly fire

I found an old dead corpse in the trunk next to the spare tire

And it’s muffling the sounds

Throw that bitch out and now the funk pounds, yo

Some say it’s just a hearse, but it’s much worse

It’s an old dark bucket with a clown curse

Long, dark, very spooky scary

I drink an old 40 bottle full of bloody mary, why?

Cuz I’m Violent J, sick in the nug-bone

I make strange sounds, clowns with frowns

Break it on down, break it up till the break of dawn

Look out your window it’s the wagon in your front lawn

Ah-boom! Aboockaboomba!

We do the dance of the death until you get in the car

And then I pull your tongue out slap you in the face with it

Say the joker did it in the…

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

We don’t do drive-by's in the wagon

Instead we just get out and stab your fuckin ass

And there ain’t no telling how many clowns inside

Told you seventeen but I lied

Cuz I’m wicked and I’m wild, wicked wild

I caught a wild deer, rode it home from Belle Isle

I play the organ like an old mental case

I can freak the cello, like Chris Conley on bass

In the wagon, I throw fingers out the window

And when you roll the window down you can smell the indo

But it ain’t mine, it belongs to the stiff over there

Puffin' on a Jim Square

Heavy long, rumbling, tumbling

Step into my ride and your ass goes stumbling

Out the back with your neck in a rut

Gotta get home before the sun comes up on my…

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

Wagon Wagon, dead bodies draggin

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