Cooked

We don't got no goddamn band We don't need to fuckin' practice, Randy We don't need a shit-ass manager, neither Ya motherfuckers show the rotted teeth Eat the putrid meat The shit they shove right in your face To give you every disease The righteousness is all you need Until we open up Show the rotted teeth Eat the putrid meat How much to look the other way? To hide the blatant disgrace The rings have rusted to your face We will swallow you Do just what we say Drink some fuckin' bleach