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letra de fast food world - promoe

verse 1:
it’s all bl–dy, covered in shame
the slaughterhouse where four number’s your name
i hate this place, the urine, the pain
they try to clean but can’t get ride of the stains (why they do that?)
so full of life, next minute she dead
i never could figure this blood spillin’ in vain
and they call it my work, yo the give me the blame
for more than x million insane k!llings a day (blam)
with machine’s sent straight from h-ll (uh huh)
stabbin’ your face norman bate’s motel
death traps and kidnaps, cows and pigs that
lay wide open on the floor with big rats (oh no)
runnin’ around, germs havin’ a field day
bacteria’s all over the steel blade
spreadin’ me through the meat industry
i’m death i bet you’re not pleased to meet me, it’s…

chorus:
oh, oh, oh, murder!
supplyin’ bl–dy meat for the fast food world
oh, oh, oh, murder!
supplyin’ bl–dy meat for the fast food world
yeah, yeah, i say

verse2:
we keep ’em comin’ no time rest, now
here’s your knife, cut ’em up by the chest, now
upside down so the blood run out
after that clean it out ’till the guts come out
now, there’s no end i’ve been begun at eight
seventeen days straight i’m always runnin’ late
i’m workin’ overtime, but i’m underpaid
the company treatin’ me like f-ckin’ slave
need to little cash so i can run away
but the light at the end of tunnel ain’t
visible, i’m too tried, got a stomach ache
can’t concentrate, it must’ve been sumth’n i ate
then he suddenly slipped and he slit his wrist
broke his neck in the fall midst the sh-t and p-ss
thinkin’ ’bout his little sis’ and the bitter twist:
now he’s dying like company’s sins were his
while his boss a real mr. sl!ck
dismissed the union that could’ve writ the risk
but he had to have people workin’ triple shifts
ain’t no accident call it what it really is, it’s…

chorus:
murder!
supplyin’ sickness in the fast food world
and it is murder!
supply corruption in the fast food world, aw yeah
i see murder…

verse 3:
steppin’ through the golden arches
where murder is neatly packed and heart rates
increase with the grease smearin’ on my domepiece
extra cheese! i’m takin’ that to go please
cloggin’ up my arteries, part of my wanna leave
my apology is simply that time is robbin’ me
n0body see the commodities is still victims
so is the one buyin’ the sh-te from h-ll’s kitchen
stumblin’ to the ground, pains the abdomen
paralizin’ his body like something stabbin’ him
but the doctor’s found nothing wrong when examining
two days later his wife came home panicking
yo, she found him on the couch with the remote control
hangin’ from his cold hand, they just spoke on the phone
the autopsy show it was the e. coli
bad luck with bad some meat?
nah, it’s probably…

chorus:
murder!
supplyin’ sickness in the fast food world
i see murder!
supplyin’ poison in the fast food world…
oh yeah
murder, murder, murder (right, right, uh, uh)
in the fast food world

outtro:
well, nothin’ with the eye, mouth or t–th
rasta no eat
and i’m not jokin’
rasta no meel
nothin’ with the eye, mouth or t–th
rasta no eat
and i’m not jokin’
no, no, no

- promoe

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