ICP: Guts on the ceiling

Oh, youll never guess whats upMy mucking head blew upMy chins in an old mans backyardI gotta sneak threw his yardTo find the fothermuckerAnd hes gotta pitbull dogAnd its sitting on my chin like a frog on a logI throw a bone to try to distractCuz Im wanting my chinny-chin-chin backIll never be one to boastBut theres my tongue hanging off the lightpostCuz my head explodedAnd my brains unloadedAll over this beautiful cityTeeth and bones to the nitty grittyTheres my eyeball stuck to the wallRight next to my splattered jawI dont dig this gameChasing my brains all through the sewer drainsMy heads all over the blockCuz I done went lunatick-tock tick-tockCome on, dawg, whats wrong with my head?It blew apart but I still aint deadI get no respectI got nothing but guts hanging off my neckBut Ill still chillingEven with my blood and guts all over the ceilingIm chillin, Im illinWith my guts all over the ceiling[Chorus X4] Im chillin, Im illinWith my guts all over the ceilingOh, youll never guess whats upMy mucking back blew upIf you come across a spineBest believe its mineOh, forget about my tongueCuz vato cant breathe without no lungsI lost both of mineNow thats an item that I wouldnt mind to findBut forget about datCuz Im roaming the streets with a splattered backIm trying to rap to this freakBut she can see my ribs all in the streetThen the chit-chat went deadShe noticed that I aint got no headShhh, I think I hear my heartBut damn, it got hit by a Smark busAnd landed in PontiacSo I tell my mellow to send it backCome on, wined and my back blow upLook for my guts, look for my gutsI gotta call from Nate the MackSays he might of found part of my backThen bring it on over, aceI got slabs all over the placeBut Im still chillinEven with my blood and guts all over the ceiling[Chorus X4]Youll never guess whats upAhh, Im down on my luckGot no headSaid I got no headSouthwest ghetto zoneIt done fried my brain[Chorus until fade]