Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun

I'm rolling down the hill, snowballing, getting bigger An explosion in the chamber, the hammer from the trigger I seen him get stabbed, I watched the blood spill out He had more cuts than my man, Chuck Chillout 24 is my age and 22 is my gauge I'm writing rhymes on a page, I'm goin' off in a rage Cause I'm out on a mission, a stolen car mission Had a small problem with the transmission Three on the tree in the middle of the night I have this steak on my head cause I got into a fist fight Life comes in phases, take the good with the bad You bought the coins on the street (Holmes), and you know you got had Because it's all high spirit, you know you got to hear it Don't touch the mic, baby, don't come near it It's gonna get you, it's gonna get you It's gonna get you, girl, it's gonna get you Looking down the barrel of a gun Son of a gun, son of a bitch Getting paid, getting rich Ultra violence be running through my head Cold medina, y'all, makin' me see red Rapid fire Louie, like Rambo got bullets I'm a die harder, like my kid Bruce Willis I love girlies, waxing and milking Coordinating trim is my man, Dave Scilken Predetermined destiny is who I am You got your finger on the trigger like the Son of Sam I am Like Clockwork Orange, going off on the town I've got homeboys bonanza to beat your ass down Well, I'm mad at my desk, and I'll be writing all curse words Expressing my aggressions through my schizophrenic verse words You're a headless chicken chasin', a sucker freebasin You're looking for a fist to put your face in Well, get hip, get hip, don't slip ya knuckle heads Racism is schism on the serious tip