[Intro — crooked music box, candy machinery] Pink little paws, icecream head, Smile like an angel, words dripping red. Think I’m dessert? Come taste the spite— One lick of my sugar will fuck up your night. [Factory Chant] Stir it, spin it, sugar it sweet, Crank up the furnace and pound to the beat! Fold it, frost it, lock it inside— Cum, Frosty Bitches, to Slurpuff’s Delight! [Chorus] Candyflip carnage, pop-pop-crash, Berry like an edible, speed hits fast. Belly Drum—boom—now my stats go nuts, Three little fuckers getting foldedly cut. Puff-puff, bitch, but I never pass; All this smoke turns your courage to ash. Sweet on your lips, venom laced speech— I’m the cutest little nightmare you’ll ever meet. [Verse 1 — Tyrantrum] Tyrantrum, motherfucker, I smelled you arrive— Like a corpse in a tar pit pretending it’s alive. Nature killed you once; I’ll improve its design— Put your bones underground for the second damn time A million fucking years buried under the crust, Even planet-fucking-Earth got sick of your musk. Your breath is a biohazard, rotten and foul, Even Trubbish would gag when you open your jowl. [Factory Chant] Crush up the fossil, grind it up fine! Rock-candy failure from another dead time! Package the pieces, ten cents a bone— The king entered roaring and never left my home. [Chorus] Stir it, spin it, sugar it sweet— Crank up the furnace and pound to the beat! Fold it, frost it, lock it inside— Welcome, Frosty bitches, to Slurpuff’s Delight! Sugar-coated venom, every rhyme rots teeth, Cotton-candy smile with a guillotine beneath. Slur-slur, puff-puff, I keep all the smoke— Your motherfucking legacy’s becoming a joke. [Verse 2 — Klefki] Klefki, you jangling junk-drawer disease, A haunted key ring with abandonment needs. You unlock no treasure, no glory, no fame; You steal other keys ’cause you’re empty and lame. No limbs, no backbone, no talent, no class, Just a bundle of bullshit with a keyhole for an ass. You spam Thunder Wave, then you hide and delay— Because fighting with skill was never your way. Your strategy’s stale and your gimmick is shit: Paralyze, stall, then pretend you did it. I’ll fire up the furnace and throw your ass in, Watch your cheap little body start dripping like tin. A spoon or a doorknob, a nail or a tack— Any shape is an upgrade from sentient scrap. Now drag your cheap ass to the scrapyard out back— You’re not even a Pokémon, just self-rattling scrap. [Factory Chant] Heat up the kettle! Melt down the prick! Boil that bastard till the metal runs thick! Mold it and cool it—now what have we got? A cheap fucking trinket that nobody bought! [Bridge — hazy, playful vocals. Smoking and puffing air] Puff-puff… pass? Fuck no. This Berry is mine and it hits like a dream; My blood pumps venom through strawberry cream. The room starts spinning, but my aim stays divine— I’m baked like a cupcake and cruel by design. Sweet little smile, foul little tongue, I’ll shit on your corpse while the factory hums. Pink on the outside, hate underneath— Now bake these bitches and grind down their teeth. [Verse 3 — Hawlucha] Hawlucha, bargain-bin bird in a dollar-store mask, All that posing just to fail at one simple task. You flex for the crowd like they’re chanting your name, But they’re laughing, dumb fuck—that cheering is shame. All entrance, no ending; all feathers, no grit, A piñata with muscles and a poultry-brained schtick. My nose tracks weakness through perfume and lies; Your whole rancid presence keeps drawing the flies. And Unburden? Bitch, you’re stealing my trick, But speed can’t save someone so painfully thick. I’ll Play Rough once, rip your costume to shreds, Make pillows from your feathers and masks for the dead. Go wrestle a Torchic, you bargain-bin hack— It might pity your ass and maybe let you fight back. So flap-flap away, take your stink out of sight— ‘fore you’re deep-fried fucked at Slurpuff’s Delight! [Breakdown] Rip out the fossil and grind up the bitch, Melt down the key ring and dump it in a ditch! Pluck that dumb chicken, tear off every thread— Three loud motherfuckers, now factory-dead! Belly Drum—BOOM! Now your rib cages crack! Unburden—ZOOM! Ain’t no crawling back! Mix every failure, then bake every ass— Slurpuff’s Delight just took out the trash! [Final Chorus] Whip it it, dip it it, serve the defeat— Three little losers baked by the heat! Pink little monster, motherfucker can bite— Cum, Dumb bitches, to Slurpuff’s Delight! Sugar-coated venom, now the sweetness is gone, I swallowed my Berry and put the slaughter shoes on. Tyrantrum’s a fossil, Klefki’s molten debris, Hawlucha got fucked by a pink patisserie. [Outro — cheerful music box] Stir it, spin it, sugar it sweet— Every loud asshole becomes something to eat. Pink little paws, cream on my head… Three little fuckers, verbally dead. Mic drop… ! Get out of my bakery, Motherfuckers!
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