Looking Down The Barrel Of A Gun

Ah Rolling down the hill, snowballing getting bigger 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 Twenty four is my age and twenty two is my gauge I'm writing rhymes on a page, and going up in a rage 'Cause I'm out on a mission, a stolen car mission Had a small problem with the transmission Three on the tree in the middle of the night I have this steak on my head 'cause I got into a fist fight Life comes in phases take the good with the bad You bought the coins on the street and you know you got had Because it's all high spirit, you know you got to 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 girl, 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 be running through my head Cold medina y'all, making me see red Rapid fire Louie like Rambo got bullets I'm a die harder like my kid Bruce Willis I love girlies, waxing and milking Coordinating shit is my man Dave Scilken 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 homeboys bonanza to beat your ass down Well I'm mad at my desk and I'll be writing all curse words Expressing my aggressions through my schizophrenic verse words You're a headless chicken chasin', a sucker free basin Been lookin' for a fist to put your face in Well get hip get hip, don't slip ya knuckle heads Racism is schism on the serious tip --- Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun - Beastie Boys