Life was lame, I had to pay money to fuck a whore
I couldn't pull a damn anorexic bitch in a tug-o-war
But then I made enough money for me to fund a tour
Now the ladies show me the goodies under their wonderbra
I'm going door to door, with foreign swords
Causing more than war slaying rappers, commercial or horrorcore
So hold your head cause I'm a torture yours, leave them open sores
I promise you it'll be more than hard to ignore the gore