Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker




I’m all up in the joint
Before we get to the mental defecation
Come get your bad education on point


Handle your business, I’ll handle the riches
One hand on my dick, other hand on your bitches
One called Monique and the other called Misty
Lining ’em up cuz I don’t give a fuck if they’re down on their luck or just finished a split shift


Judging technique as I’m smudging their lipstick
Fucking their tonsils and fisting ’em briskly
I’m shifty, I’m shady, dude looks like a lady
But won’t know for sure ’til you frisk me


I’ve been a bad, bad girl
I’ve been a bad, bad boy
I’ve done some bad, bad things
I’ve got some badass toys
Too bad the fat lady sings
Too bad the pendulum swings
Too bad I’m goin’ all in
Balls deep, too bad if it stings


Is it a bird or a plane Lois Lane or a marathon man, in which case, is it safe
Altering states through androgynous nature
One day I’m Geisha, the next I’m Yakuza
Skip vaccination, I’ll schedule a booster
Available now in all colors and flavors


Making close shaves with my trusty straight razor
Wasting no haste in debasing the savior
Mary’s no longer a virgin I hear
To be clear, I’m the one who date raped her
Slipped her a roofie, in truth it was three
Hailed her a cab and then drove rusted nails through her lily-white feet


See fit to judge, I’ll begrudge you the honor
I’m gone baby gone, put her back in her corner
Led her someplace where the climate is warmer
Bled her and topped up the rocks in my sauna
Silencing lambs, choosing braille for the slaughter
Like shit hands on and can go all night long without stalling


Revving the engine and shifting the stick as I lick open wounds, lips pouted and razor wire smile
No doubting I’m vile
I am the cruel twist in your solar plexus and unpleasant taste in your mouth
Keeping you guessing like Dexter, requesting your hand in a dance to the death while you figure shit out
Enterprising, sodomizing
Dry going in and taking sweet time pulling out


Gonna be a bad, bad girl
Gonna be a bad, bad boy
Gonna do some bad, bad things
Gonna use some badass toys
Too bad the fat lady sings
Too bad you ain’t wearin’ wings
Too bad baby wants to ride
Too bad I’m already inside


That just got me nice and hard
Now hold on to your hat for the cum shot
Up trellis with menace, through window I creep
I’m raven on dresser, cold sweat on your sheets
Ten gun salute as I get widows weeping
Shooting to stun as I have to come clean
Always found killing more fun when proceeding to shunt your nose straight through your brain, it’s obscene
The number of ways I could pan fry your liver, slow roast your thorax and filet your spleen


Lucky seven to hard eight
Just for fucking entrée
Both Kayne and Beyoncé
King with Queen’s logic
Have to be brutally honest, I am your worst nightmare
I am the creator


Baked on the fumes as I butcher your dreams
Read you a lullaby, trip your inertia
Gouge out both peepers like lychees and skip to dessert
Fuck delicacy
Gonna be a big bad wolf in wolves clothing
Now get down on your pretty little knees and let’s get direct to the chops little sheep
Fuck with my baby and get fucked by me
How deep is your throat
We’ll soon see


I’ll be a bad, bad girl
I’ll be a bad, bad boy
I’ve planned some bad, bad things
Too bad you don’t have a choice






Richard Charles Stevens


Keeper of The Crimson Quill



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