He Sold Guns

I met a man on my travels He sold guns for a living At twelve hundred a pop for a clean one He was making a killing Anything to feed the family Money goes out when the bill's in Even if it meant killing someone else's children I said it's hard times in the city He said, "It's hard times everywhere (Everywhere) That's why I keep my three-fifth with me Let 'em try me if they dare" Said he's aiming it at your chest He's not aiming it in the air Flash flood thе whole block when he pulls it Havе it raining everywhere Take a look at this place It's a fucking mess Take a look at this place It's a fucking mess Met a man in my dealings He fed a habit by stealing Robbed Peter, but never paid Paul So both started scheming Last time that I saw him You said, "He's been clean for days" That was one week prior to him being found Stabbed dead in his flat hallway Take a look at this place It's a fucking mess Take a look at this place It's a fucking mess Take a look at this place It's a fucking mess Take a look at this place It's a fucking mess