Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun

Lyrics

Ah, rolling down the hill, snowballing, getting bigger An explosion in the chamber, the hammer from the trigger I seen him get stabbed, I watched the blood spill out He had more cuts than my man Chuck Chillout 24 is my age and .22 is my gauge I'm writing rhymes on a page, I'm going off in a rage 'Cause I'm out on a mission, a stolen car mission Had a small problem with the transmission 3 on the tree in the middle of the night I got this steak on my head 'cause I got into a fist fight Life comes in phases take the good with the bad You bought those coins on the street and you know you got had It's all high spirit, you know you gotta hear it Don't touch the mic baby, don't come near it It's gonna getcha It's gonna getcha It's gonna getcha It's gonna getcha Looking down the barrel of a gun Son of a gun, son of a bitch Getting paid, getting rich Ultra violence running through my head Fuzzy navel y'all making me see red Rapid fire Louie like Rambo got bullets I'mma die harder than my man Bruce Willis I love girlies, waxing and milking Got more excuses than my man Dave Scilkin Predetermined destiny is who I am You got your finger on the trigger like the Son of Sam I am like Clockwork Orange going off on the town I've got posse bonanza to beat your ass down I'm mad at my desk and I been writing all curse words Expressing my aggressions through my schizophrenic verse words You're a headless chicken chasin' a sucker free basin Looking for a fist to put your face in Get hip, get hip, don't slip, you knuckle heads Racism is schism on the serious tip