Carlton Shanks

by Ashton Butcher

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released March 11, 2011



all rights reserved


Ashton Butcher Tallahassee, Florida

We're just two guys making some tunes sometimes. Barksnacker is on the vocals, and Gustavo Sanchez is on the beat.

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I hate hipsters

I hate hipsters
I hate hipsters

I hate hipsters
I hate hipsters
I hate hipsters
I hate hipsters

I hate you and your fixie bike
Those tight pants were made for girls
I don't think that you deserve life
I hate that you roam this world


I will kill them until I'm satisfied
I will kill them until I'm satisfied
I will kill them until I'm satisfied
I will never be satisfied
Track Name: Quarter Poundher
Dozens of rotting corpses
Displayed in a shed
Your body looks ripe
I've come to claim your head

I dont give a fuck about your family
I'll slaughter all of your children
And let you wade in their blood

Your skin will make a perfect addition to my wardrobe

When you start to cry, I feel alive

The noose awaits you
Welcome to your funeral

"Useless slut" will be etched on your tomb stone
You fucked with me, now this grave is your new home

Your corpse, decorticated, has served its purpose
Occasionally [your grave] will be opened to pour you company

The shredded remains of your children reside with you
Wading softly, you fungate
I keep my promises

Track Name: Beaches and Shores
We are the heart of horror, look into our eyes
Abacinating heavily -- your sorrow filled life, cleverly disguised
Your existence amounts to nothing

You are the scum of this earth; A disease ridden harlot
Infestation runs rampant through your veins
With a heart, putrid as bile
White teeth hide a crooked smile

Was this really worth it; Betrayal and bloodshed
You are better off dead

You have no dignity or pride and you lack self accountability
Everything about you disgusts me

Consider this your appropriation
And it will be my endowment to the world:
One less concubine plaguing these lands

Hush little bitch, don't say a word
No one can hear you now
Hush little girl, stop that fucking tongue
Or I'll rip it the fuck out

You'd find a way to be disloyal if you were chained
To the floor of a basement.
And, guess what, you little whore

This cellar is your grave, get used to the darkness

Now the only way out is to tap your heels three fucking times
And go back to the kitchen.