Listen up there, ya varmints! We don’t mean no harm
If ya get us riled up though, we ain’t got no choice.
Darkie faces ain’t welcome in this white man’s town
So ya best just remember that. We’ll put ya down
And we ain’t gonna bulldoze ya with just our voice.
Part of all our anatomies is a firearm.
Pack yer bags and git movin’ …Don’t care if yer sick.
Tell that doc ya don’t need it. Yer goin’ back home.
Git yer lazy dark asses off our filthy streets.
Every breath of fresh air that yer stealin’ competes
With what we got available. Go back and roam
Through the jungles ya came from, and do it right quick.
Please Don’t Come To This Country! We’ve gone back in time.
Something like a big bender has made us loco.
We’ve become trigger happy. The beefing goes on
Mighty random and frequent from dusk through ‘til dawn.
We are not who we claim to be. My, does it show!
That a brave soul must tell the whole world is a crime.