Hall of Meat

In forty-five years he never broke a single bone
He jammed over fifty fingers though
A lotta scars, but he kept all his teeth, he'll
Have to ride a car with seats to reach the Hall of Meat

Speed kills, and I've seen flesh cutting
But it beats pills, or hitting the eject button
Why be quick with a retort, when you
Can't even laugh at your injury report?

It's such a crime, why you do that child?
Getting pins inside like a Voodoo Child
All the while, no smile, saying let me end it
Why not? I gotta admit, you're no Jimi Hendrix

You got racked like a pool ball
Sacked like a bunch of grip stolen out a pool hall
Adrenaline addicts won't cure their fiending
Once they get stuck with internal bleeding

You can't see the damage
But you can feel it like you ate a glass sandwich
If someone did it, you would ask for compensation, but
Since it's self-inflicted, guess you like self-flagellation

And you didn't need a whipping post, to
Tear your body apart, just to say you ripped the most
What a self-fulfilling prophecy, at
Least you kept your word to the streets, that's honesty

Slam, or land it, dagnabit, let boys be boys!
Snap, or Gram it, get candid, let the boys be boys!