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Where I reside is a most vile place

Of undying blistering sun

And bountiful homeless filth

The very sight scorches my eyes

More than the light I despise

In the wretched shop I set a deadly trap

Luring the rats with an opioid snack

Unwise to the fact I am no doctor

But a butcher

Now they’re in my labs

My experiments begin with a blood transfusion

And end with amputation

Looking to your left

Then the right

No escape in sight

See horror on their face

When they awake

To rats heads for hands

What a fitting punishment

FBI raid my place far too late I already escaped

Ransack the ruined space

Getting everything videotaped

Only to find a faint opioid trace

Left from the homeless blood I drained

The blood I drain

Heart attack from stress

No sweat, I inject another dose of what they love most

Bradenton slam crew

Cleaning up the streets violently

B town laboratories

Churning bodies

Move to a new location

The hunt now begins

They face a grueling end

The B-town laboratories

Has opened their doors