Lyrics

[John Ashley] In 1972, a crack commando unit... Crack commando unit... Crack, crack, crack, crack commando unit was senttoprison by amilitary court for a crime theydidn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade... [Mr. T] This fool talkin' bout... (no, no, no, no...) You ain't got no secret weapon... When punks start hasslin' decent people, I make it my bidness! Just crazy... Shut up, fool! Ain't nobody ever called me 'bout being caught up in anything but self-pity, self-pity, self-pity, self-pity... I knew it! I knew it. All these rich folks are crooks! (The man's a pothead... pounds smack or speedballs or somethin'...) You ain't got no vibe, you ain't got nothin' but your pea-brain runnin' round your head... Some people never learn... I ain't afraid to fly, and I ain't afraid of no either... Kill those suckas! Got no time for the gibber-gabber... Take it easy... How bout this, sucka? I'm gonna hit you so hard, I'm gonna knock you into next week! Watch out, sucka. I got a bad foot! Who's crazy? Yeah! You don't get yo finger out my face, I'ma turn you into chop liver! [Woman] You're not afraid, are you? [Mr. T] Who me? Never What you talkin' bout fool? I don't go for none of that. You just a crazy man, seein' things that ain't there