Made in China. GMO papaya hybrid
cease the silence and smite this type a Hydra before they copyright all life.
Gene spliced the rice twice as nice: a human heist.
Buy back your life at the right price or it’s the scythe.
sickest proses sick as rigormortis hitch up horses of the Four forces
to reign ashy apocalypses on our noses
ventricles bar coded, coma chords corroded
maniacal biological unfolded.
Burn down the forest to save the trees.
Slash and burn agenda to stave off disease.
Carnal extinction to preserve the thought.
Formaldehyde fantasies at the end of a glock.
Dumpin toxins into the pores to prevent pollution
when gray matter mines become infected, convoluted.
Kill the children where the parents have failed
and let loose the schemin demons that were once jailed.
Welcome to our industrial tasteland.
Your taste buds won’t know what hit them, and neither will your unborn children’s kidneys.
Try it. You’ll like it. Besides you don’t have a choice
so you might as well make the best of it.
now with 90% less asperger's syndrome
and still 100% delicious.
we got designer genes standard issue
we create synthetic genetic aesthetics god-like like
Vishnu. Nevermind the degeneration of your skeletal
tissue, cuz we got a spendable cure that we can sell you.
wait a minute, scratch that last thought, WE OWN YOU.
Track Name: Pet Hipster
I wanna hot pet hipster chick to keep in my pocket.
Or maybe keep her chained up to the wall in my closet.
Dressing her up like a starlet, wearin a pretty scarlet bonnet.
If her boyfriend come around, I’ll knock him in his eye socket.
Disposing of torsos cuz I guess I'm not hip enough.
Then stealing they girls cuz they hot enough to make my dick erupt.
Lustful transgressions when that blood squirts, spurts, and sprays.
Love? It hurts. “I love you” is all I want to hear her say
but she’s silent as my homicidal thoughts
about breakin into her house and always breaking lots of vertebrae.
Entice her wit Decemberists and my rapist ‘stache
her skin: porcelain glass. I wanna taste that ass.
Welcome to the House of the Devil, no more fakin acts.
Lock her to the furnace for later cuz I’m late for class.
GUESS YOU COULD SAY SHE’S A LITTLE TIED UP AT THE MOMENT.