Letra de Who's Handling The Population Paste?

Don't you want to know the truth about dishonorable discharge? For that special one-gun slaute to the fellow N.R.A. holes Yada yada yada yada Plaster every sore A question for you my self proclaimed profit, are you angry? Now you can go from cocaine onto Rogaine in 2.5 seconds So become your very own post-civilized, flawless, best friend Microprocessor upon microprocessor upon microprocessor upon microprocessor Dear fools and barbarians why don't you ask yourself if you can still recall the Alamo In this botched blitzkrieg of drive-through culture and sweaty cadaver driven vessels So call it a lifestyle, but it's really a filthy fucking traffic jam in Disguise... And you won't say shit even if your mouth is full of it