[Violent J]  Rich boy's in trouble  Car broke down on a drive through the ghetto  All the weird people, you gotta get the fuck out  Need to use the phone, step into my funhouse  Hey yo, dope, looks like we got another  He'd like to go for a ride on the neck cutter  Straight to the cart for the next spectacular  Just to know, it's a dead body sitting next to ya  Get ready for the carnival thrills  Should of cut your little faggot ass in the hills  Boom! through the door into the room, you gotta check it out  It's where we cut your fingers off and stick em in your mouth  That should show you that you greedy little rich fuck If you're bucking with  the juggla you're a dead duck  Eight fingers in your mouth and two sticking out your nose  Further down the hall, the room with jokeros  That's where you get by seventeen wicked clowns  For the seventeen dead bodies never found  And they jump on your back until your ribs crack  Toss you in the cart and push you down the deli tracks  Spinning and twisting, rolling and bumping  The dead fuck next to ya is trying to tell ya something  Listen close, you can barely make it out  "Bitch, you ain't shit in Violent J's funhouse"    "Help me, I'm trapped in here. Somebody let me out.  Oh my god!!! Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!"    "Come here, rich boy  My head is spinning 360 degrees  Richie richie richie  Come here"    "Bitch, fuck you, yeah, know what I'm saying  Wicked clowns running the funhouse  Ain't no way to get out until the killer gets your neck cut like a man"    [Violent J]  Pick a card, any card, any motherfucking card......A joker's card  Sorry, bitch, the luck of the draw  Violent J's gonna have to ice your jaw  Snap, bang, snip, boom  Send that motherfucker off to the next room  Crash through the doors on the windy spinny trail  Through a loop-de-loop and into a big nail  Straight through his left eye and out the back of his head  Is he dead?  No, cause he has to go to the next phase  It's the room of giggles because of your ways  You like to sit and laugh at people when they suffer  Well, now you sit and watch me laugh when I stick your mother  It's the funhouse, bitch, everything's funny  You act like whipping on your ass ain't funny  And the ride of your life only gets faster  Off to the R-r-r-ringmaster  I take my bobo gun and blow your fucking mouth in  Eh, yo, the next room, it's called the chicken pen  And it's a little tribute to the bigots of the south  We take a dead chicken shove it in your mouth  And we stuff it down your throat with a pitchfork  Cause you're a biggot, that's what you get for it  Now I take your sorry ass and I throw you out  Cause I don't need your dead body stinking up my funhouse  Funhouse, stinking up my funhaugh!