Beefmasters (Battalion of Saints)

They're the meat inspector of the human loin The Beefmasters hook you and tell you where you are going They're after your milk vein, need a corporation slave Hang you on their work hook and break your moral everyday Beefmasters, Beefmasters, work you to the bone Where's the ladder to success? Beefmasters, Beefmasters, know what they want They want you to suck their dicks On your way to the slaughter house, they want you in your prime Work you for a shitty wage and tell you that you could climb Ain't got no education - puts you in a different line You wonder what went wrong, you're just a grissel of life [Chorus] Fuck the meat run nation, so you try to get away You don't know what to do, your so used to being told Beefmasters need a cut, they hold their branding iron Who'll be the next one in line for the Beefmasters iron?