GrewSum - Body Snatcher lyrics

[Verse 1] Snatchin 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** and you pa**ed 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** 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** if not you can all be a knotch in my blade When I'm choppin away, you were lost and afraid Now a carca** 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 Snatcher Everywhere I go everybody knows me as that motherf**in Body Snatcher I'm not trynna gloat, I'm just little lonely but they know me as that Body Snatcher Everywhere I go everybody knows me as that motherf**in Body Snatcher Everwhere I go everybody knows I'm about to catch a body [Verse 2] Snatchin bodies, that's my forte The kitchen counter's my dinner plate Where I ripped and ate up that b**h I hate It ain't hard to imagine this sh** I make Chicken fingers, that b**h'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**hes, then givin you a shoulder to cry on At the same time I laugh at you b**hes I'm the last individual hackin slash general Plastic masked criminal Back to my business Rappin that wicked sh** 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 hell is happenin To any pa**ion you had back when you started Now you rappin retarded 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**ty a** tour stops Like Thor's hammer and smash every tour van See the stage where your rappin and storm it And k** 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 [Hook]