Protest & Sever
    (专辑: Director's Cuts - 2023)
    
    Bring me their heads now  Bring me their scalps   I 
brought war to their doorstep  Let red dots paint their foreheads  Prep the 
forceps  Hold tight while I 
carve a 
price into your flesh  Armed to our sharpened teeth  Always a 
weapon in reach  The 
sickest scenes you've ever seen   Today we turn the 
tables  Bring me rapist scalps  Lost count of the 
bodies, bodies, bodies  Left rotting, rotting, rotting  Dogs put down  Stabbed in the 
streets  Get attacked in traffic in the 
passenger seat  Just say you're sorry, sorry, sorry  It's funny, funny, funny you're fucked now   Can you smell the 
bacon burning?   I'll be back with a 
vengeance  Drop the 
guillotine, death sentence  Bodies as fuel for the 
engines  Those we trust to protect us have turned against us  I've got a 
bone to pick  Approach at your own risk  Avoid direct eye contact, pig   Today we turn the 
tables  Bring me racist scalps  Lost count of the 
bodies, bodies, bodies  Left rotting, rotting, rotting  Dogs put down  They showed up with badges and guns  Bet when we pull the 
hatchet you'll run  Say you're sorry, sorry  It's funny, funny, funny you're fucked now   They said that justice mattered  Then the 
pigs get away with murder  I 
offer my hand for peace  Show no tolerance, my hands will speak   So bite at the 
hands that feed  Break their chains and set the 
world free  I 
offer my hands for peace  We let our hands speak   Last cunts I 
call in case of emergency  Pigslaughter in the 
third degree  We let our hands speak  Boxcutters dipped in bleach  Next street to clean  So bite at the 
hands that feed  We let our hands speak   Today we turn the 
tables  Flesh cut by the 
pound  From a 
mountain of bodies, bodies, bodies  Left rotting, rotting, rotting  Dogs put down  They bit the 
claw that feeds  Now they choke on the 
marrow underneath  Say you're sorry, sorry, sorry  We're cutting, cutting, cutting the 
leech out   Vilified. Targeted. Nevermore. Finish it.   I 
can tell that you're scared  You've got that, "Please, just kill me" stare  Killed more than the 
vibe  You could cut the 
tension with a 
knife   Razors for rapists  Burn out the 
bigots  Pliers, pulling their weapons off  Straight through the 
fleshy part of the 
thigh  Die, pig, die