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!