Visceral Candy feat. Tim Stiles - Visceral Candy & Tim Stiles

Stuff My Face Off

I... Am hungry
That's what I am
I... Am hungry

So starved. Energy depleted, seeing stars
So far, I've downed two pots of coffee and a pack of Marbs
No carbs. Nothing to eat and I'm crashing hard like old cars
Tank's drained, batteries can't hold a charge

Feeling apathy without a cracker as a mechanism
To feed the fumes of a converter catalytic
An empty belly doesn't match the physics
Of a man with a rat's metabolism
Throat's so charred

Stomach so jarred, my mood's becoming livid
With one look at my watch I might go ballistic
If soon I don't eat, I probably won't sleep
I need at least something to counteract impending cataclysm

Attacking the kitchen, scouring the back of the fridge and
Pacing back and forth with a lack of precision
Realizing rations resemble that of a prison
Alcatraz for sure. Slamming the fridge door so hard

I... Am hungry
I... Need to eat

I... Need to stuff my fucking face!
I... Need to stuff my fucking face!
I... Need to stuff my fucking face!
I... Need to stuff my fucking face!

I missed my breakfast
Not a single Pop-Tart
I had to skip my lunch
Not even a Lunchable
I forgot about dinner
Although it's heated up
I still made it to happy hour
And got drunk

It seems, stores are all closed, no one's taking delivery
Past three, in the morning, what am I going to eat?
So weak. Blood sugar low, facing defeat
Slowly, slip on a pair of sneaks and head up the street

On the hunt for at least a Big Mac, Fillet O' Fish and
The biggest size side of fries with secret sauce to dip in
My sole target's golden arches glowing in the distance
I'm going to win this competition, no holds barred

A face hole so dark is now lit, and uplifted
Filled to the brim with any grits I can fit in
Tossing it back at a ravenous rhythm
Tray covered in trash, not a single shit given

Feeling free from fasting as this Happy Meal's my witness
Grubbing left and right like no one's business
Realizing this act resembles that of a pigeon
Not a single scrap left, not even a smidgeon

I... Stuff my fucking face!
I... Stuff my fucking face!
I... Stuff my fucking face!
I... Stuff my fucking face!

I have eaten so much
This might affect future generations
I have eaten so much
This might affect future generations

Are you gonna eat that?
NO
Sweet!

I... Stuffed my fucking face!
Not a single Pop-Tart
I... Stuffed my fucking face!
Not even a Lunchable
I... Stuffed my fucking face!
All heated up
I... Stuffed my fucking face!
And got drunk

I... Stuffed my fucking face!
I... Stuffed my fucking face!
I... Stuffed my fucking face!
I... Stuffed my fucking face!

Credits
Writer(s): Timothy Munson Stiles, Jay Battle, Seth Swift, Ian Hernandez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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