Gun Control

[Intro] ("shoot'em up, shoot'em up") Hey... [Chorus] Cheeba cheeba, cheeba cheeba I think it would be cheaper if I grow your cheeba Hide your beeper, ride a zebra I wonder why you glorify nine millimeters If you shoot you eat it, you eat it, creep behind revolving doors Wild on the floor involved in war Or crawling on all fours (Gun control) [Verse 1] Why would you pride yourself on being a luger-holder When the only gun you've held is a supersoaker? But I'm the killer finger without a millimeter Look on your face look just like gorilla sphincter When the NRA gave you the middle finger Told you that you couldn't join the gun club due to your ethnic background Said you were born from the septic trash mound So put the gun back down You may think you're tuff, bullet-proofed up But the men that carry guns got mullets and crew cuts White conservatives who form the oligarchy Who'll call you darky, and hate commies and Paul McCartney They're through nigga-shootin' at the general cinema But the self image is a mental enema Plus an exchange of gunfire Is more likely to kill your man Busdriver [Chorus] Cheeba cheeba, cheeba cheeba I think it would be cheaper if I grow your cheeba Hide your beeper, ride a zebra I wonder why you glorify nine millimeters If you shoot you eat it, you eat it, creep behind revolving doors Wild on the floor involved in war Or crawling on all fours (Gun control) Oh! goodbye cruel world I'll never see my children or stuff again ("clack, clack"!) Oh!, on a scale of one to ten, my life was... pretty good I may be shot in any one of your city or hoods [Verse 2] Hey... Bullets be ricocheting, bouncing off church bells Fools be bailing, all you see is shirt tails But me and my personnel... we got merch to sell Besides violence in a public place don't work well And this is a pouring rain putting out those warring flames The warning shots in the air hit angels, now I got blood in my storm drain Sometimes I run over woodland creatures and they become road-kill But still fans stood in the bleachers, and come to the 'Blowed' still But you, you're overkill... You want to shoot at recordable CDs like they were clay pigeons I told you I was "babysitting" and you thought I came back from a gunfare But I'm really into childcare [Chorus] Cheeba cheeba, cheeba cheeba I think it would be cheaper if I grow your cheeba Hide your beeper, ride a zebra I wonder why you glorify nine millimeters If you shoot you eat it, you eat it, creep behind revolving doors Wild on the floor involved in war Or crawling on all fours (Gun control) Ughh! Goodbye cruel world I'll never see my children or my stuff again ("Arghh!") On a scale of one to ten, my life was a 30 below with a chance of showers But yet I had the man power to sit in front of a mic stand for hours