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new mayhem - prison meat lyrics

[intro:]
slithering like slytherin, i’m k!lling as the villian like (woah)
knock a filling out of children’s mouths to earn the clout points (woah)
i’m willing to be vile and reviled for the thrill of it (woah)
paying bills by the swill that i fill in my own joints (woah)

[verse 1:]
look at this! look at this!
all the backs i have flipped
the spines are broken and their throats have been ripped
yet i just quip
flippant tongue and such a terrible lip
of every scar that i have laid in the whip
my t++th have been chipped
my spirit is broke
from all the anger that i spit and i wrote
every tear i have dried
who rolled the dice, in the game of my life
put me out so deep on the southside
that there be no amens in the end time
never even dreamed of amends in a past life
all they ever knew was the heat of the h+llfire
life was just one bad day from a court case
pen’ll give you three square meals every weekday
really how bad could it be, to be put away
all you ever know is the cuffs and the pepper spray
either you comply with the guy, or you run away
time, making double or you do it, choose one way
[chorus:]
they want to bet against you
you can never mulligan your hand
and the deck cannot be shuffled
the system, it eat mons, rip
tell me, what’s an anagram for “prison meat”

[verse 2:]
how many mamas in the court get fl+stered
how many men who did resist get dusted
how many growing old behind bars rusted
many wanted better but the lawforce l+sted
in a big bear trap that they all hopscotch
no revere for the law, but a fear of the cops
but who volunteers for the noose to be dropped?
but who puts their head in the maw of the dog?
wiggle and they jiggle and wriggle about
within the lines of the law and its bounds
a mole hill made in to a mountainous mound
pin him with life when he’s out, only pushing a pound
but why he feel that he to need to survive, living life
saturated by the gun and the knife
and the blade and the drugs
expectation might just cripple a blood
when his soul is cajoled to the filth of the mud
still pushing ‘cane with a cane and a set of false t++th?
in the old folks home where the pimps all sleep?
if the law be the enemy, then living out a felony
would be the anemone they hide in, silent
the line that they ride suicidal
idolize the prize of survival of 5+0
best believe if you dodge apprehension
fear of the capture is still a life sentence
[chorus:]
they want to bet against you
you can never mulligan your hand
and the deck cannot be shuffled
the system, it eat mons, rip
tell me, what’s an anagram for “prison meat”

- new mayhem lyrics

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