I need a gun to keep myself among
The poor people are burning in the sun
But they ain’t got a chance
They ain’t got a chance
I need a gun
Cos all I do is dance
Cos all I do is dance
I need a gun to keep myself among
The poor people are burning in the sun
No, they ain’t got a chance
They ain’t got a chance
I need a gun
Cos all I do is dance
Cos all I do is dance
In my backpack
I got my act right
In case you act quite difficult
And your resolve weaken
With anger and discontent
Some are seeking and searching like Nimoy
I’m a peace-loving decoy
Ready for retaliation
I change the whole occasion to a pine box six-under
Impulsive don’t ask why or wonder
Orders given to me is:
strike and I’m thunder with lightning fast reflexes on constant alert
from the constant hurt that seems limitless with no dropping pressure
Seems like everybody’s out to test ya
’til they see your break
You can’t conceal the hate
That consumes you
I’m the reason why you fill up your Isuzu
Chill with your old lady at the tilt
I got a 90 days visit
And I’m filled with guilt
From things that I’ve seen
Your water’s from a bottle
mine’s from a canteen
At night I hear the shots
Ring so I’m a light sleeper
The cost of life,
it seems to get cheaper
out in the desert
with my street sweeper
The war is over
So said the speaker with the flight suit on
Maybe to him I’m just a pawn
So he can advance
Remember when I used to dance
Man, all I want to do is dance
(Dance!)
(Dance!)
(Dance!)
I need a gun to keep myself among
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