Extreme Makeover - Goretex

The Canarsie coven, paints with G’s and murderers

Addicts and Cadillacs, slut teens and project burglars

Shiksas, swappers and gurglers, more food for the furnace

More goons and pounds of shrooms, more wounds to purchase

Glenwood morgue, third floor, with gore in the winter

I’m flawless, sinister tauren, crawling off of your sister

Date rape is boring, tissue samples the best

I don’t get stressed drugging these bitches, it’s only at their own request

Unconscious and blessed, forget an apology

Too progressive, (similar to an atomic proctology?)

We stock rugers and bonesaws, crawling for sodomy

Zoloft smile, I’m wild, caught up in this Space Odyssey

Rest in peace, denim when we dress the deceased

Gets sprayed in the basin, the bloody mess, next to your feet

Too professional, I’m quick to chop you off like sectionals

Extreme makeover, rocking the pens like vegetables

The final takeover, get your wig cut, Extreme Makeover

Desensitized, I don’t feel a thing, the pain’s over

Look in my eyes man, you’ll die before the day is over

The newest change in your life, homie it’s game over

I was raised in black with a sick nat to attract women

Crack villains, we knocking off drug stores like Matt Dillon

Or Captain Trips, what’s your poison, acid or dips?

Have em smacking each others tits in the back of the 6

Serial killers, blowing up like Branch Davidians

Non Phixion insignia, cripple your camp like Syrians

See me, it’s cool, haters trying to dump on my shit

Scissor fights since '74, they pumping my clip

Different Bible studies, it’s always 5Gs in commissary

These runaways, forever find pain, caged in my monastery

Six sadists, my fan base deranged like rapists

Nothing’s changed, it’s faith, all my drug pushers and sixth graders

The final takeover, get your wig cut, Extreme makeover

Desensitized, I don’t feel a thing, the pain’s over

Look in my eyes man, you’ll die before the day is over

The newest change in your life, homie it’s game over

Knocking on heavens door, it’s Gore, your guru was swami

Shoot you to pulp, flesh dangles like melted pastrami

You faggots are commies, swap cum like Macy in Cosby’s

I’m like Ozzy in '68, mosh pits and Zombies

Pound you to dust, home attendants changing your diaper

In between nights, I’m maintaining and training with snipers

Your wig is a rave, turned up with cake and kronz

Haze blunts around the room while we burn the Quran

We on body bags and tags for corpses that’s vacant

It’s a must without the fuss and compromise the cremation

So clean, murder scenes, devoid of conscience

Profit the doctor, scissor chops blocks, it’s progress

The final takeover, get your wig cut, Extreme makeover

Desensitized, I don’t feel a thing, the pain’s over

Look in my eyes man, you’ll die before the day is over

The newest change in your life, homie it’s game over