Toy Box Lyrics

"Ooo, I like this toy. Watch it go. Uw...wait!" (gunshots) 

"We're sorry the person you are calling is dead" 

I was like six, I used to get dissed by the chicks 
And everyone would chase me and hit me with bricks 
And rocks and sticks and calling me names 
And filled my lunchbox with frogbrains (eeww!) 
When I left school, it was much iller 
My daddy was a serial killer 
And how about that, he'd always make me sit in the back 
With all his dead bodies on my lap (move!) 
When I got home, enough of the static 
Hammer and tools, went up to the attic 
Never knew any other girls or boys 
Only my toys, toys, toys 
Bang! Clang! Hammer and twist 
Nobody knows I exist, and I'm pissed 
But I won't be mentally scarred 
Instead I make toys, toys of the graveyard 
Monday, ringing the bell 
It's all about show and tell, might as well 
Show all these bastards just what I got 
Yo, check out my toy box! 

"Nothing feels better than a good harty-harr, right boys and girls" 

We got dead bodies everywhere you look 
All the nerds sitting up front got cooked 
Others start screaming and making a dash 
So I start handing out toys fast at last 
You like slinkies, we got slinkies 
Only mine like to wrap around your face 
And stretch, twist, kazoom 
And whip your body all over the fuckin room 
So come, one at a time 
Open your gift and what you will find 
Is a toy, my friend, that you'll never forget 
It's not everyday that you get your skull split 
You like soldiers, we got soldiers 
Made with rubber and steel, they look real 
But I wouldn't just toss em under your bed 
That's how you get an axe to the forehead (oww) 
And don't let em sit around all day 
Come home and find you mom, dead in the hallway 
Cuz they can be nifty 
All the toys are shifty, haha, in my toy box 

"Woooowee, that sure sounds like fun!" 

That's not a toy, hey, wait a minute 
Don't fuck around, homie, you can lose an eye with it 
That's my double blade razor whip chop jimmy 
And it's mine, motherfucker, so gimme gimme 
You want toys, you come to the right place 
Try my little toy, Mutilating Mental Case 
Wind him up, let him go among all of ya 
Then BANG! serial slaughterer 
Your turn, reach in and get lucky 
Oh look, he pulled out a rubber ducky 
It make a funny sound and then BANG! 
Blew the fingers off his fuckin hand 
Don't stop, class ain't done yet 
I remember you calling me poindexter 
Bookworm brainy, my aggrevation 
Went into these little creations 
Reach in, you might find something wicked 
Wicked, scary, chop bang pickadery 
Off with your head, a robot with a sword 
But now he's looking at me, but what for? 
"Eh, wait a minute, I made you 
Get them, not me. Eh, wait a minute, motherfucker." 
"Oh, I love this record (repeating).