The Unthrowboxes
The Death Who You Laugh At
Verse 1:
Hit you in the face with the baseball bat
You got me acting like a spoiled brat
Leave ya corpse impregnated with a rabid cat
Why don't we have a little chat?
Ripping out ya skin with the bullets from a gat
Broken skulls adorned with a new hat
Pouring the blood in ya clean mat
Leave ya heart attacked with the smell of rat and the stench of rotting scat
Clean it up with ya tongue when the blood splat
Chewing off her soles of the mortal combat
Don't talk like that the death who you laugh at
Feeding on the severed fingers like a wombat
I'll kill her if this dumb slave is a copycat
Hope they ain't gonna try and make me mad
This is for ya punishment from doing bad
It ain't my fault that I was making you sad
In ya mouth where the pins and needles add
Go get punished and beaten but you're dead
It must be something that you won't be glad
That it's too late for the chance you've ever had