Ticket please, thanks, walk through the door Into the Halls Of Illusions, visit yours And see what coulda and shoulda and woulda been real But you had to fuck up tha whole deal
\"Lets take a walk down the hallway It's a long way it, it takes all day!\"
And when you get to tha end, you'll find a chair With straps and chains, we slap you in there Lock you down tight so you can't move a thread And pull your eyelids up over your head 'cause you're about to witness an illusionary dream It's just to bad it ain't what it seems
You walk in and see two kids on the floor They playin Nintendo and he's got tha high score And sittin behind them chillin in a chair Is your wife, when ya look, oh, you ain't there It's some other man in the hand in hand Now she looks so happy you don't understand See this is an illusion, it never came true All because of you!
Back to reality and what you're about Your wife can't smile 'cause ya knocked her teeth out And she can't see straight from gettin hit 'cause you're a fat fuckin drunk piece of shit But it's all good here, come have a beer I'll break the top off it and shove it in ya ear And you're death comes wicked painful and slow At tha hands of MILENKO!
Great Milenko, wave your wand Don't look now, your life is gone This is all because of you What you got yourself into
Look who's next it's Mr. Clark The dirty old man from the trailer park You got your ticket? Thanks take your coat off And later on, why not, I'll rip your throat off
\"Lets take a walk down the hallway It's a long way it, it takes all day\"
And when you get to the end you'll find a chair You see all the blood, yeah your boy was just here We get all different kind of people comin through Richies, chickens and bitches just like you In the Halls everybody gets a turn To sit and witness your illusion before you burn
What do we have here, oh yeah, no way It looks like your kids and they okay Your daughter's chillin up in college top grade And your son's a fuckin doctor, phat paid They got families and kids and it's all good They even coach little league in the neighborhood Is this true have ya really seen tha holy ghost? Nah, bitch, not even close!
Back to reality your son's on crack And your daughter's got nut stains on her back And they both fuckin smell like shit And live in the gutter and sell crack to each other When they were kids you'd beat em and leave em home And even whip em with the cord on the telephone And that reminds me man hey ya gotta call Watch your step to Hell...it's a long fall!
Ah, it's time to pack up and move to the next town But we forgot Mr. Bigot, okay, dig it We can't show you an illusion 'cause we're all packed But I'll still cut ya neck out, how's that?