Lyrics

[Intro: Brahma Bull] Moccasin Creek comin' back at you again Now I can't tell you the whole story because I've never been there But my boy, Sandbox has and here's his story So check it out [Verse 1: Brahma Bull] My boy Sandbox has a story to tell After tour number two he told it to me well He said Haji was everywhere boilin' in the heat Baggy eyes from no sleep with blisters on his feet He spoke of no food said it was hot as the sun And he came back home with notches in his gun He had a war cry, evil look in his eye Had hate in his heart wishin' all of 'em fry Told me 'bout the long nights with no stars in the sky He couldn't count the number of times that he asked himself why Either them or him, Sandbox didn't hide And this is what he told me was his marchin' cry [Chorus: CB3 & Brahma Bull] Hey, Middle East (He said, "I'm talkin to you") Won't you meet my middle finger (Yeah, he was pissed) I hate your oil, I hate your riches I hate all of you son of a bitches And I ain't afraid (He ain't afraid, he told me the truth) You martyrs like to think That you are in the terror business (Yeah, he said they're confused) But we built the bomb and I'll tell you son You don't want to mess with the good old USA (And I'm gonna take his word for it and so should you) [Instrumental Break] [Bridge: Brahma Bull] My boy Sandbox I've been talkin' about, well check it out Here it is, right out of his mouth, Sandbox baby [Verse 2: Sandbox & Brahma Bull] I'm the Sandbox reppin' one one B I am the infantry follow me (Yeah) The army's middle finger and the world's police (Uh huh) I'll fight to the death if necessary (Woo) Posted on a rooftop, nightfall, sun drops Bagdad, Iraq, waitin' for the fun to start Lace up your boots boys, I'm about to shoot boy And et 'em feel the wrath of our sick ass noise toys (Damn) .556 and 7.62, fifty cal rapid fire, whatcha gonna do Tell you what they do 'cause I seen it first hand Saw the middle finger, shot, ducked and ran [Chorus: CB3 & Brahma Bull] Hey, Middle East (You heard him that's the truth) Won't you meet my middle finger (Sandbox, right off the roof baby) I hate your oil, I hate your riches I hate all of you son of a bitches And I ain't afraid (He ain't afraid, two tours and he came back home safe) You martyrs like to think That you are in the terror business (It just don't make no sense, you heard it) But we built the bomb and I'll tell you son You don't want to mess with the good old USA (And that's the damn truth) [Outro: CB3] And if this old song offended you Well, you can kiss my country ass I don't like you anyway