lirik lagu stitch mouth - chop house
i run a chop shop but it isn’t for cars
see i’m a black market pedophile
peddling human parts
i go to major cities to chill in public parks
when the parents start slipping i step in and take charge
they finally get [?] up to it but the nightmare’s already began
where the h~ll is little suzy?
chloroformed in my van
i’m on radio the interstate before you relay
she’s in the hands of a scumf~ck and aboutta get raped
she’s on her way
to my filthy flesh factory
where she’ll become a woman and die
for the world to see
i take her down to my bas~m~nt
where we’ll both get naked
you won’t wear any clothes
and you’ll cry
oh she’s shaking
mr c~nt snuffer [?] i video tape my work
sell them off to perverts
they can’t afford the body work
slice the living flesh just to hear them scream through flesh
ej~cul~te down my leg when i hear the jaw break
[chorus:]
in my chop house
i’m turning angels into lunchmeat
arrested development occurs when my blade sinks
into human flesh
my occupation k!lls the blood that spills
provide s~xual thrills
in my chop house
you are forsaken, you’re naked segregated packaged up and sold off like bacon
when i get my claws in you
purity is destroyed but your beauty’s froze forever
in the frame of a polaroid
i wear a pig mask when i have them on cam
i could be their father brother or cousin thehy don’t know who i am
i talk to them like i’ve known em for years
it helps them get through the pure moments (?) and fight back the tears
until they see the hacksaw and then they start to get worried
because with the blood spraying in their eyes their vision is blurring
the novocaine and heroin has got them all numb
i saw off every limb leaving only gushing nubs
i sell the body parts to collectors and necrophiles
i keep the torso intact it can bring a couple of hundred bills
as long as the v~g~n~ is still attached
sick f~cks pay scratch to [??] sn~tch
i sharpen my knives before i filet
cuz today you became a product like a grade a steak
they pray somebody finds em before i mutilate em
but when i say smile for the camera its already too late
[chorus:]
in my chop house
i’m turning angels into lunchmeat
arrested development occurs when my blade sinks
into human flesh
my occupation k!lls the blood that spills
provide s~xual thrills
in my chop house
you are forsaken, you’re naked segregated packaged up and sold off like bacon
when i get my claws in you
purity is destroyed but your beauty’s froze forever
in the frame of a polaroid
[x2]
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