Gunfight

I step out the saloon, about a quarter to noon Might as well have been a quarter to DOOM Strapped with my six-shooter, next to my six pack My sawed-off, slung over my right shoulder, hung on my back Heavy artillery weigh down my belt strap Ain’t gon' be no killing me without the clack clacking crack Of the hammer slamming down into action On the chest of any courageous brave soul Who wanna come test The West Select the weapon you want But don’t mess with the best We promise we can lay ‘em to rest Make sure they sleepin’ in a closed casket With skills that’s, obviously, the most murderous I paint the bullseye, just show me the target There’s a vest that can stop this Ain’t been invented yet If I got ya in my sights, it’s a fair bet The back of your shirt’s prob'ly wet And it ain’t just sweat! Chorus: (It’s a gunfight) Ya life on the line with your rep (It’s a gunfight) High noon, fight to the death (It’s a gunfight) Don’t bring no knives, no fists (It’s a gunfight) MF Doom: Squatting, proper aim Laying on the strong beer(?) Matching pair o' nickel six poppers thrown in our gear See a pure Iroquois (????) To feed black bellies seeds in need .44’s before the black talons, black stallions Back o' wagon’s rations holding for the cash in What’s the haps, bust the caps It’s a rap attack, factor that it could be a trap (????) crack Catch him at the river bed, nakedly wretched Blood’ll flow downstream as they shiver, better check it I’ll be up ahead aways Hold your fire, stay out the light Stagecoach wide open, something ain’t right Shot in the back, felt two hot leds enter me Enter 12 shells, horse fell Sent Hell, six enemies Surrounded by militia, they ‘bout to unmask me Lastly blew her a kiss and made plan B (????) Chorus: (It’s a gunfight) Ya life on the line with your rep (It’s a gunfight) High noon, fight to the death (It’s a gunfight) Don’t bring no knives, no fists (It’s a gunfight)