To The Grave Cut Off The Head
Slaves to the saw
Bloodshed on red carpets
Roll em out, every sick dog marked a target
Shove all your help
Shoveling shit on my shoulders
And cracking their belts
Cancer cut from the meat
Tumor torn from their teeth
I've taken bigger shits than their band
You'll learn to snitch, learn to burn every bridge
Open every decade old slit on the wrist
Hold out your hands
Here's some advice, stop
Not much left after they've taken their cuts
Give up
Cunts that can't hack it and kids that won't make the…
Sliced necks
Kill all your friends
Do anything to get a head
What the f..ck is the message again?
All pretend, no substance
Cut them down to size
Ties are severed, severed, severed
They said "Over my dead body"
I said "My f..cking pleasure"
Deathcore is dead
Cut off the head
Too sick to save
Don't speak its name
Rip out the page, rip out the page
Slaves to the grave
Oh yes, we're making a killing
Got em all hooked, dragged into the sheds for the milking
Get the message yet?
Take a f..cking hint
The truth, hard to stomach
Cut your shoot
This is your bit
Yuck
Killing for the sake of killing
I'll save you some time, I've checked
There's nothing new in the lyrics
You're all just maggots swarming on my meat
Defecate on your dinner plates
Already morbid obese
Still, they ordered a feast
Advice? Stop
Puppets have tangled their strings
Dying in nooses they made
Too many flies on the wall, might need to fumigate
Sliced necks
Kill all your friends
Do anything to get a head
What the f..ck is the message again?
All weakness, no justice
Cut them down to size
Ties are severed, severed, severed
They said "Over my dead body"
I said "My f..cking pleasure"
Deathcore is dead
They're teaching violence to their offspring
Carve a meat chart right into their f..cking soft skin
Just to help them never forget the side they picked
Given a birds-eye view through chain-link
Armed & active, it's target practice
Look what the rat dragged in
Dying, weak
In the bin
