Body Bag Songtext
von Dr. Dooom
Body Bag Songtext
Yeah
Dr. Doom
Beware when I walk in your room
That′s right
AKA, Kool Keith
I'm washin pots and pans, fry gorillas with tortilla chips
And clam dips, my pants rip, playin Gladys Knight on Fright Night
With buffalo meat, your ass vomit
Gastric juice with french toast, balls from a moose
Heavy convulsion construction, your stomach tucked in
Leave you with Maalox and castor oil toxic waste
Your area′s vacant with warehouse aroma
Cat turds and horse drops, your face went into a coma
Exterminating houses, with fifty mousers, diapers and kids
Drivin trucks full of roach business
Twelve to nine I move body bags to Cedars-Sinai Eatin co-workers food, I'm rude, walkin to Beverly Center
With a jockstrap dude, approach security with a delivery
Devastating the major, cut cables in elevators
Make the rush hour stop, draggin dead elephants
In department stores while people shop
With a briefcase from Spelman, I have to tell men
Get off my back, I'm workin overtime like a janitor
With stamina, bury the last bodies in Canada
In Toronto, I used to jerk off in a ten room condo
With serious surgery, Dr. Doom workin in the office buildin
Drivin some Bronco like O.J. Simpson
Nervous smokin a pack of Winston′s
With twenty-seven dead people in Pontiac, Michigan
Twenty-eight in Denver, twenty-eight I can′t remember
Walkin through a town called Gatesville
You suckers out there know how Norman Bates feels
"Take the body and bag it, then I'm out of sight"
"Hey what′s that smell down there?"
From a little town, that's right a tore down house
With some real estate in Peekskill
I ran a meat market behind Johnny Rockets
Paid truckers to haul body pieces
From the East to the West, with the devil branded on your chest
I had to step up in a judge robe, confess
Watch the whole Arkansas, Kansas City testify
Against my lies and my alibis, I was surprised
My lawyers dressed in black in the Rolls Royce buried in the back
Arms missin knees cut down to the nubs
All I had was people to grub
Stories to tell to the Inquirer how I
Set a bunch of people in a nightclub
On fire, my intention was to get even like Spielberg
Throw like Stephen King, Children of the Corn on a swing
I stuck needles in your face like Pinhead
You been dead for eighty hours in the college dorm
With a thunderstorm, lightnin with big bolts
I used to hang with Jim Jones before he started the cults
The SSA, the Sacrifice and Serving angle
I′m the Neck Strangler
How you feel, what you think
Dr. Doom
Beware when I walk in your room
That′s right
AKA, Kool Keith
I'm washin pots and pans, fry gorillas with tortilla chips
And clam dips, my pants rip, playin Gladys Knight on Fright Night
With buffalo meat, your ass vomit
Gastric juice with french toast, balls from a moose
Heavy convulsion construction, your stomach tucked in
Leave you with Maalox and castor oil toxic waste
Your area′s vacant with warehouse aroma
Cat turds and horse drops, your face went into a coma
Exterminating houses, with fifty mousers, diapers and kids
Drivin trucks full of roach business
Twelve to nine I move body bags to Cedars-Sinai Eatin co-workers food, I'm rude, walkin to Beverly Center
With a jockstrap dude, approach security with a delivery
Devastating the major, cut cables in elevators
Make the rush hour stop, draggin dead elephants
In department stores while people shop
With a briefcase from Spelman, I have to tell men
Get off my back, I'm workin overtime like a janitor
With stamina, bury the last bodies in Canada
In Toronto, I used to jerk off in a ten room condo
With serious surgery, Dr. Doom workin in the office buildin
Drivin some Bronco like O.J. Simpson
Nervous smokin a pack of Winston′s
With twenty-seven dead people in Pontiac, Michigan
Twenty-eight in Denver, twenty-eight I can′t remember
Walkin through a town called Gatesville
You suckers out there know how Norman Bates feels
"Take the body and bag it, then I'm out of sight"
"Hey what′s that smell down there?"
From a little town, that's right a tore down house
With some real estate in Peekskill
I ran a meat market behind Johnny Rockets
Paid truckers to haul body pieces
From the East to the West, with the devil branded on your chest
I had to step up in a judge robe, confess
Watch the whole Arkansas, Kansas City testify
Against my lies and my alibis, I was surprised
My lawyers dressed in black in the Rolls Royce buried in the back
Arms missin knees cut down to the nubs
All I had was people to grub
Stories to tell to the Inquirer how I
Set a bunch of people in a nightclub
On fire, my intention was to get even like Spielberg
Throw like Stephen King, Children of the Corn on a swing
I stuck needles in your face like Pinhead
You been dead for eighty hours in the college dorm
With a thunderstorm, lightnin with big bolts
I used to hang with Jim Jones before he started the cults
The SSA, the Sacrifice and Serving angle
I′m the Neck Strangler
How you feel, what you think
Writer(s): Keith Thornton, Kurt Matlin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
