[Verse 1]
I nearly had a heart attack
When I got the first initial investment from my Pops
Now finally, I would be achieving my life long dream of owning my own little butcher shop
It was on the same cross streets that I always imagined
Ever since I was a little itty-bitty baby rabbit
I used to go to Gibbs with Momma to watch the man cut the steaks
Thinking only God gets to do what he's doing before the good stuff gets on the plate
I got a fat loan from the bank that would pay off in no time
I gutted the place out and renovated the space, now it's show time
Shipments coming in from the supplier
I cut the meat (Cut it)
Dismantle piece by piece
Remove eyes, guts, and teeth (Yucky)
It's better than dragging the bloody, marbled muscle tissue out in the street (Yucky)
I think about the intricate roadways of veins when I go to sleep
People call me a creep
But I don't think it's fair, though, let me explain
Nevermind, I'll wait for a better time when I can better demonstrate the pain
Walk a mile in the shoes of the butcher man, you'll feel just the same
Can't wash the evil off with the innocence of the lamb's bloodstain
Can't wash the childlike excitement of carnage off, it just can't go away
Can't give it away, can't give in to anything other than sickening rage

[Chorus]
Cut the meat, cut the meat
Cut the meat, cut the meat
I ain't got no time for none of that phony bologna jack
Cut the meat
Cut the meat, cut the meat (Cut it)
Cut the meat, cut the meat (Cut it)
I ain't got no time for none of that phony bologna jack
Cut the meat
Cut the meat, cut the meat
Cut the meat, cut the meat
I ain't got no time for none of that phony bologna jack
Cut the meat
Cut the meat, cut the meat (Cut it)
Cut the meat, cut the meat (Cut it)
I ain't got no time for none of that phony bologna jack
Cut the meat
[Verse 2]
You wanna get a life (Nope)
Don't wanna get a life
I can set ya right, homie, get a set of knives
If you do it right and you treat 'em right
You'll develop a passionate appreciation of cutting things up when you sleep at night
People coming in from all around to visit my little shop of horrors
The local paper praised the quality of the goods that I offer
The services that I offer
The self taught precision and skill
The art of going in for the kill
Killing a thing and turning it into a meal
Turning a meal into shit and the shit fertilizing a field
Mesmerizing satisfaction as the dying swine squeal
I talk to the maggots in the back of my brain making a business deal
I talk to the people who used to make fun of me when I daydream still
Gullet to the groin, killer for the coin
Butcher man gotta go and get it
You don't understand the problem but you'll get it
Put you on the butcher block and hit you with it
Put you in a state of something really wicked right before the sickly sleepy composition enzymatic systematic breakdown
Finna break your body down into a liquid

[Chorus]
Cut the meat, cut the meat
Cut the meat, cut the meat
I ain't got no time for none of that phony bologna jack
Cut the meat
Cut the meat, cut the meat (Cut it)
Cut the meat, cut the meat (Cut it)
I ain't got no time for none of that phony bologna jack
Cut the meat
Cut the meat, cut the meat
Cut the meat, cut the meat
I ain't got no time for none of that phony bologna jack
Cut the meat
Cut the meat, cut the meat (Cut it)
Cut the meat, cut the meat (Cut it)
I ain't got no time for none of that phony bologna jack
Cut the meat