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Well, they called me a little so and so |
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And so, yeah, now hummin' a different tune |
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Oh, this is a job for a stupid man |
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Smoke it down to the filter and |
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Put it out on your hand |
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Them, cops was lined up |
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About a week long all down the road |
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True crime, homosexual gangster men |
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Were, were piled up on my living room floor |
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Well, I'm gonna get my own rifle down |
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And point it on in your eye |
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And huff a big long breath, and shoot it |
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Shoot it and, and shoot it and shoot it and, and shoot it |
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And shoot it and shoot it and shoot it |
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I'll call the cops on my own self |
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Figure out a way to please those men |
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I'll play detective, I'll play bloodhound |
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Sniffin' up clues with my nose in the mud |
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Down here in my shantytown, leave you alone |
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For the rest of my life, by the time I got my ass up |
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Off the grass and on the sidewalk |
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Made my way toward the house |
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Well, I realized they made their way home |
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I know this shit will continue |
