"Ooo, I like this toy. Watch it go. Uw...wait!" (gunshots)      "We're sorry the person you are calling is dead"      [Violent J]   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"      [Violent J]   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   'cause they can be nifty   All the toys are shifty, haha, in my toy box      "Woooowee, that sure sounds like fun!"      [Violent J]   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."