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Bhi Bhiman
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Cookbook
We're cooking the books, We're cooking the books here
We were taking a bath, so I took to the mat everyone with a pension
Pay attention, you just lost your job, how's your life? How's your wife and my kid?
There's some blood in your grits from your hand which I bit..I'd be throwing a shitfit
Grab your pitchforks and torches and take to the noches..You think that will work?
I'm going to jail, I'm going to jail now
But I'll be phoning it in, slicing garlic so thin it liquefies in the pan
Luca Brasi and me start our own brasserie, and open up out on Sing Sing
I got my hand in 'bout ten honey jars spread from Crawford to Mars
I make a killing, ask Jeffrey Skilling
You don't understand greed its not fun its a need
Its the pork not the beans, not the peaches, the cream, that you want in your belly
Take what I'm selling and pass me the jelly, excuse me, preserves
Tell me what do you think I deserve
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