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grewsum - body snatcher lyrics

[verse 1]
sn-tchin bodies, that’s my forte
the kitchen counter’s my laboratory
give half the organs to my half black lab half
bottomless pittbull she’s actin hungry
stab and cut ya, smash ya guts in
stash ya chunks in that bag of laundry
stab you right through that abercrombie & fitch
bullsh-t and you p-ssed out on me
i’m a loud mouth zombie
not allowed and the crowds all want me
kinda smell like raw meat, probably be
cause i always keep a couple pounds on me
who the f-ck are you watching?
shoot yourself in the head if it’s not me
i better be top three
when you mention this dark hip hop sh-t
if not you can all be a knotch in my blade
when i’m choppin away, you were lost and afraid
now a carc-ss decayed, get sloppy and crazy
then mop up the place
we made lots of you spray on the carpets and drapes
awkward embrace, tossed in the grave
off with your face in my office it hangs
ominous when i wanna, be tell your mama
to put this ain’t no thermometer in her face
little condiments you don’t really want it with the great
unless you wanna end up as a body on my plate
get ate with a little bit of ramen like a steak
no taste, so i throw it in the garbage with the waste
today i had to throw another body in the lake
i hate when they bite me and they try to get away
i rape when they try to make me find em in the rain
but i do it everytime everyday cause i’m that

[hook]
body sn-tcher
everywhere i go everybody knows me
as that motherf-ckin body sn-tcher
i’m not trynna gloat, i’m just little lonely
but they know me as that body sn-tcher
everywhere i go everybody knows me
as that motherf-ckin body sn-tcher
everwhere i go everybody knows i’m about to catch a body

[verse 2]
sn-tchin bodies, that’s my forte
the kitchen counter’s my dinner plate
where i ripped and ate up that b-tch i hate
it ain’t hard to imagine this sh-t i make
chicken fingers, that b-tch’s fingers
de-bone and fried and they delicious mane
ain’t got no money up in my bank
so i hunt to eat and i live off pain
cannibalism, the type of meals that i make
are the type to land a man in a prison
fantabulous dishes, sever your hand and then ask
if you could lend me a hand with the dishes
stabbin you b-tches, then givin you a shoulder to cry on
at the same time i laugh at you b-tches
i’m the last individual hackin slash general
plastic masked criminal
back to my business
rappin that wicked sh-t
back to back murderin cats for stats
brining em pain cause i can racks on racks
full of bodies out in the back in my shack
and the only ones safe are my fans
fellow rappers, what the h-ll is happenin
to any p-ssion you had back when you started
now you rappin r-t-rded and puttin no effort
in for the fans paddin your pockets
little amateur stop it and keep playin
that same game and imma happen to stop in
to one of your sh-tty -ss tour stops
like thor’s hammer and smash every tour van
see the stage where your rappin and storm it
and k!ll the hype man now that’s a performance
take you captive and make you into my hype man
now sing that chorus, i’m that

- grewsum lyrics

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