Fast Food World-Promoe/CosM.I.C./Bushman

Here's your order: It's all bloody, 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 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 a insane killings a day with machine's sent straight from hell stabbin' your face Norman Bate's motel Death traps and kidnaps, cows and pigs that lay wide open on the floor with big rats runnin' around, germs havin' a field day Bacterias all over the steelblade sprendin' me throught the meat industry I'm death I bet you're not pleased to meet me, it's... Murder Supplyin' bloody meat for a fast food world Murder Supplyin' bloody meat for a fast food world 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 campany treatin' my like f**kin' 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 concetrate, 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 piss Thinkin' 'bout his little sis' and the bittre twist: now he's dying like campany's sins were his While his boss a real Mr. Slick dismissed the union that could've ride the risk but he had to have peple workin' triple shifts Ain't no accident call it what itrealy is, it's... Chorus: Murder supplying sickness in a fast food world/ And is a murder/ supply coruption in a fast food world/ I see murder... Verse 3: Steppin' through the golden arches where murder is neatly packed and heart rates increase with the grease smarin' on my domepice Extra chees! I'm takin' that to go please Cloggin' up my artories, part of my wanna leaove My apology is simply that time is robbin' me Nobody see the commodites is still victims So is the one buyin' the shiie from hell's kitchen Stunblin' to the ground, pains the abdomin paralizin' his body like something stabin' him but the doctor's found nothing wrong when examinin Two days later his wife came home paniking Yo, she faund 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... Outtro: Well, nothin' with the eye, mouth or teeth Rasta no eat and I'm not jokin' Rasta no meel Nothin' with the eye, mouth or teeth Rasta no eat and I'm not jokin' No, no, no