There's a hole in the world and a fake Brad Pitt
Puttin' holes into girls, leave 'em slain and split
'Cause there's holes in his brain that no payment can fix
And he goes by the name of Bateman
This oaf of a broker couldn't sell his persona
Only see this banker compensating when work's over
Turpin kept his bird caged in, secure
Still I've never known a toff so insecure
You and my razor are the same in effect
Except my blade is sharp when it's a pain in the neck
I'd say look back at your mistakes because you're making a mess
But I'm sure that reflection would get Master Bateman erect
I'm trying to listen to the new Freshy Kanal tape
But this fucking limey won't stop shouting in my ear
I'm gonna stab a Tim Burden to death
Until I taste Sweeney Toddler tears
I'm Patrick Bateman, I take it you'll understand
If I keep my gloves on when I'm shaking your hand
You reek of disease and live in people's feces
And yet you're the biggest shit that I've seen on Fleet Street!
Do you cut your own hair? I can tell
Michael Jackson's "Thriller" monster's alive and well
Innocent, but spent half your life in jail
I'm not behind a cell 'cause I got Bale!
That's your wife that you severed and carved
'Cause you're a terrible barber, 'til death do us part
Stupid fucking bastard, you didn't get very far
Now let's hear Paul Allen's bars (what I've done?)
Paul Allen? Oh, I had him for dinner in Londo-
Oh, I mean, I had dinner with him in London, ay?
Hush now, love, don't fret or whine!
Why don't you get inside? Sweeney, set aside a chair and get a knife
Let's let him dine!
We better write, "Sweet and sigma sauce" onto the menu signs
For when I make a Wolf of Wall Street a shepherd's pie!
But I can't put this guy's heart into my tarts, 'cause I might barf!
Quite bizarre! This businessman doesn't fit on a pie chart!
Oh, you hate women and the homeless? We're the same
'Cause I loathe that looney Lucy who'd soon take my Todd away
You knew my wife lived? There's only you to blame!
Next to Patrick, you're second here to be reduced to flames!
As for Bruce Wayne, tell your lawyer you're defeated, bruv
I hope your second verse features you as much as your sequel does!
I'm like Perelli how I up and beat a wimpy kid
Now the oven is the only place that you'll be fitting in!
Oh my God, a musical that's set in the 19th century
It even features themes of class struggle and poverty?
How profoundly unique
And look at that subtle all-white casting
Shut down Lovett's love that she forced on ya!
Kept your feelings more reserved than Dorsia!
And now your lady's deceased, and she's plagued with disease
Watch me show a barber's wife a better facial routine
Take out your blades! Let the stage see who's greater!
Either way, you'll end up with your fuckin' face in the newspapers!
There's an idea of Sweeney Todd, but he's all Barker, no bite
Just a husk of the fraud who lost his child, wife, and life!
Now I've got to return some videotapes