Don't know much, never went to school, Don't know what you're fighting for.
Clinging to a jeep, loosing off a clip, in the general direction of the sun,
The boys with the boots, belts and balaclavas
Some stupid fuckah with a gun.
They stand akimbo. They stand astride, on marches or parades.
Whether in combat camouflage or designer suits and shades.
Headbands, bandoleers, bandannas, shirts with all the buttons undone.
But who the hell thinks that death has got style?
Some stoopid fuckah with a gun..
It wouldn't be so bad if it served some function in some ecological plan.
Trim the surplus, curb consumption, rein in the ravages of man.
But blowing off the leg of somebody's child, or mowing down some villagers for fun,
Do nothing for the suffering and only serve the cause
Some stoopid fuckah with a gun!
There are plenty that deserve to be called to answer, who've robbed the people blind,
Legal? Feudal? Business? Brutal? Up against the wall, I wouldn't mind.
But I never dreamed of taking retribution on somebody's daughter or son.
You can't call it Karma, you can't call it justice,
Just Some Stoo-pid Fuckah With A Gun.
Some Stoopid Fuckah With A Gun.
Contributed by giorgio - 2010/5/22 - 21:21
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