Toy Box

Ooh, I like this toy! Hmm, watch it go
Uh!

We're sorry, the person you are callin' is dead

I was like six, I used to get dissed by the chicks
And everyone would chase me and hit me with bricks
And rocks and sticks and callin' me names
And fill my lunchbox with frog brains, Ugh!
When I left school, it was much iller
My daddy was a serial killer, and how about that
He always made me sit in the back
With all his dead bodies in my lap, move!

When I got home, enough of the static
Hammer and tools and up to the attic
Never knew any other girls or boys
Only my toys, toys, toys
Bang, clang, hammer and twist
Nobody knows I exist and I'm pissed
But I won't be mentally scarred
Instead, I make toys, toys of the graveyard

Monday, ring of the bell
It's all about show and tell
Might as well show all of these bastards just what I got
Yo, check out my toy box

"Nothin' feels better than a good hardy-har-har
Right, boys and girls?"

We got dead bodies everywhere you look
All the nerds sittin' up front got cooked
Others start screamin' and makin' a dash
So I start handin' out toys fast at last
You like slinkies? We got slinkies!
Only mine like to wrap around your face then stretch, twist, kazoom
And whip your body all over the fuckin' room

So come one at a time
Open your gift, and what you will find
Is a toy, my friend, that you'll never forget
It's not every day that you get your skull split
You like soldiers? We got soldiers!
Made with rubber and steel, they look real
But I wouldn't just toss 'em under yo bed
That's how you get a axe to the fo' head

Oh, and don't let 'em sit around all day
Come home and find your mom dead in the hallway
'Cause they can be nifty
All the toys are shifty (he-he)
In my toy box (huh?)

"Woowie, that sure sounds like fun!"

That's not a toy, hey, wait a minute
Don't fuck around, homie, you could lose an eye with it
That's my double blade razor whip chop jimmy
And it's mine motherfucker, so gimme, gimme
You want toys? You come to the right place
Try my little toy mutilatin' mental case
Wind 'em up and let him go among all of ya
Then bang! Serial slaughterer!

Your turn, reach in and get lucky
Oh look, he pulled out a rubber ducky
It make a funny sound, then
Then bang! Through the fingers of his fuckin' hand
Don't stop, class ain't done yet
I remember you callin' me pointdex'
Bookworm brainy, my aggravation
Went into these little creations

Reach in you might find somethin' wicked
Wicked scary, choppin' pickaderry
Off with your head, a robot with a sword
Now he's lookin' at me, but what for?
Wa-wait a minute, I made you, get them not me
Wait a minute, motherfuckers!

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, I love this record!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, I love this record!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, I love this - (turn it off)
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, I love this record!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, I love this - (turn it off)
Ha, ooh, whoo! Turn it off!
Ha, ooh, whoo! Turn it off!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, I love this record!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, I love this - (turn it off)

Tell me why? Why do you feel that you should still be together with Lisa?
Sure, c'mon man, our relationship ain't all weak and shit, ya know I mean?
I mean, just because she's dead, we should just break up or somethin'? Fuck that!
Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, listen to me, she's dead, man, you gotta move on
So what! So she's dead, does that make you fresher than her?
I didn't say that
I don't think so! So she don't talk as much and she really don't move around a lot
She's still fresh! She's still fun to be around, you're just prejudiced

Huh?
You're prejudiced against dead people
Aw man, you really are one sick bastard Tommy
Yeah? Fuck off!
What? Fuck off!
What the fuck is that? What does that mean?
It means fuck off!
Man, you fuckin' lost it
Yeah? Fuck off!



Credits
Writer(s): Mike E. Clark, Joseph Bruce
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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