| Cadillac conversations buried bodies and broken bones
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| They’re calling up widowed women on their rotary telephones
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| A rich old man in a pin striped suit has the money to guess your fate
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| You walk around town throwing money around and you’ll end up in a lake
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| Power, pride, and prophet putting whole families to rest
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| You mess around town putting people down but now your messing with the best
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| Big bodied cars and we got bodies in the back
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| Taped up and tied well it was all over respect
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| Some call us smooth well some would even call us blessed
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| But if you call us anything other than that you’ll get a bullet in your chest
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| Power, pride, and prophet putting whole families to rest well you mess around
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| town putting
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| People down but now your messing with the best
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| Dead bodies and pale blue faces
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| Broken car windows and empty shell cases
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| You can pick the time people and places and I’ll show you exactly how my pistol
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| tastes
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| It’s cold, it’s cold, it’s cold and it’s just for you
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| Delivering cargo and our trunk was white as snow
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| Stopped at the railroad tracks pushed some cargo in our nose
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| Got to the warehouse and we started to unload
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| Something wasn’t right here it was too quiet and cold
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| Guns were drawn in setting suns, cries echoed like a ghost
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| He walked to me, I, on my knees and whistled as he got close
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| With a grin eyes full of sin all I did was pray for hope
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| He put his gun under my chin and exhaled a breath of smoke
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| He said think about the people you’ve hurt and the men you’ve killed
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| Think about all the funerals and the coffins you have filled
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| Dead bodies and pale blue faces, broken car windows and empty shell cases
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| You can pick the time people and places and I’ll show you exactly how my pistol
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| tastes
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| It’s cold, it’s cold, it’s cold and it’s just for you |