ICP: Toy box

Ooo, I like this toy. Watch it go. Uw...wait! [gunshots]Were sorry the person you are calling is dead[Violent J]I was like six, I used to get dissed by the chicksAnd everyone would chase me and hit me with bricksAnd rocks and sticks and calling me namesAnd filled my lunchbox with frogbrains (eeww!)When I left school, it was much illerMy daddy was a serial killer And how about that, hed always make me sit in the backWith all his dead bodies on my lap (move!)When I got home, enough of the staticHammer and tools, went up to the atticNever knew any other girls or boysOnly my toys, toys, toysBang! Clang! Hammer and twistNobody knows I exist, and Im pissedBut I wont be mentally scarredInstead I make toys, toys of the graveyardMonday, ringing the bellIts all about show and tell, might as wellShow all these bastards just what I gotYo, check out my toy box!Nothing feels better than a good harty-harr, right boys and girls[Violent J]We got dead bodies everywhere you lookAll the nerds sitting up front got cookedOthers start screaming and making a dashSo I start handing out toys fast at lastYou like slinkies, we got slinkiesOnly mine like to wrap around your faceAnd stretch, twist, kazoomAnd whip your body all over the fuckin roomSo come, one at a timeOpen your gift and what you will findIs a toy, my friend, that youll never forgetIts not everyday that you get your skull splitYou like soldiers, we got soldiersMade with rubber and steel, they look realBut I wouldnt just toss em under your bedThats how you get an axe to the forehead (oww)And dont let em sit around all dayCome home and find you mom, dead in the hallwayCuz they can be niftyAll the toys are shifty, haha, in my toy boxWoooowee, that sure sounds like fun![Violent J]Thats not a toy, hey, wait a minuteDont fuck around, homie, you can lose an eye with itThats my double blade razor whip chop jimmyAnd its mine, motherfucker, so gimme gimmeYou want toys, you come to the right placeTry my little toy, Mutilating Mental CaseWind him up, let him go among all of yaThen BANG! serial slaughtererYour turn, reach in and get luckyOh look, he pulled out a rubber duckyIt make a funny sound and then BANG! Blew the fingers off his fuckin handDont stop, class aint done yetI remember you calling me poindexterBookworm brainy, my aggrevationWent into these little creationsReach in, you might find something wickedWicked, scary, chop bang pickaderyOff with your head, a robot with a swordBut now hes looking at me, but what for?Eh, wait a minute, I made youGet them, not me. Eh, wait a minute, motherfucker.Oh, I love this record.