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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 SongtexteThose 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 Aus Songtexte Mania