- cifra
I'm a bastard son of the envy and angry
I thought it right but i have done all wrong
All these voices are letting me nervous
I'm rotting inside but killing in the outside
Disgust and hate have grown like my beard
They follow me when I'm drunk at the street
There is an endless run
I shot in everything because I'm the one
Oh! Is he hurt?
Maybe I have the cure!
The only cure is found
in the barrel of my forty five
Like an Atomic Bomb
I want to fuck up you all
And leaving to your sons
The legacy of dead by my will
I manage the chaos
Behind a gun
Ha-ha-ha I have balls of steel
Baby, better you run
Oh! Is he hurt?
Maybe I have the cure
The only cure is found
in the barrel of my forty five
Oh! Is he hurt?
Maybe I have the cure
The only cure is found
in the barrel of my forty five
Alright
