Haute Tropique Lyrics

Rarely does chi factor into
The type of people he chooses to consume
He likes them big and overgrown
More meat to gristle
More muscle he can hone

Two monks from a deli
He siracha'ed and jellied
And made a corset out of them for his belly
A Haitian from Florida is now a rug in his foyer
A girl from Delaware is a high-arched back chair

The paperboy's a paperweight
Albert is a lampshade
The fireman's an ashtray
The DJ spins as fan blades

When would it end,
Oh, these horrible things?
He asks himself nightly
Voices in his head sing:

You're born what you're meant to be
If you're bad then be bad the best
If you're good, stay away from me
We're a bad influence for the best

If you want to steal, go and steal what you want
If sniffing women's heels gets you off, I won't watch
And if you got to dress like a fox in distress in the woods
Well, you can, and you could, and you should

Here's the story of a lovely lady
Who had three daughters who drove her fucking crazy
She hacked them up with an old machete
And threw a party with dead daughter confetti

I comb my hair (HAIR!)
I brush my teeth (TEETH!)
I eat my peas like a good boy's supposed to

I wear a tie (TIE!)
Boa constricted (SNAKE!)
I eat my pride like a lion's supposed to

You're born what you're meant to be
If you're bad then be bad the best
If you're good, stay away from me
I'm a bad influence on the best

You're born what you're meant to be
If you're bad then be bad the best
If you're good, stay away from me
We're a bad influence; we're the best