Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gunslinger, artist - Dan Bull. Album song Generation Gaming III, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 23.10.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Dan Bull
Song language: English
Gunslinger |
Listen up, brother |
Got a little rhyme for you |
But I gotta tell you |
I ain’t no durn singer |
I’m a gunslinger |
Who’s a better gunslinger? |
That’s a humdinger |
Blood blister on my one finger from triggers |
And I don’t hunt deer |
So chump, here’s something I’d like to advise |
Better run for your life if you’d like to survive in the frontier |
It’s like you drunk beer, brain ain’t configured |
A word to the wise and your mind will become clear |
Bright as the lights on the rides of a fun fair |
So come bring your Jesse James and Billy the Kid |
I’ll make a mess of their brains and fill 'em with lead |
And I will until every damn villain is dead |
Then I’m bringin' the sheriff a bag full of their heads |
Handlin' any man that is plannin' to stand in my path |
Because I’m heavy-handed with every bandit I wrangle with |
And we’re in a century that hasn’t any ambulances |
So best pack your best brandy and bandages |
When I’m rat-a-tat-tattin' on my gatling guns |
The blast attacks faster than my battlin' puns |
A LeMat in my one hand and another in my other |
So get runnin' for cover, you would you rather be buggered? |
Shots, I’m lickin' off like the sugar on my cherry strudel |
I’m quick on the draw, call me Mary Doodles |
I’m gettin' reward money to bury people |
And as a result, I never need to be very frugal |
'Less you want your tooth pulled, pay the dentist |
I break rackets as if it’s an angry game of tennis |
Don’t hate the player, no, hate the business |
I make a livin' from wanted posters: Jay McGuiness |
Forget a hook |
I ain’t no durn singer |
Brother, look |
I’m just a gunslinger |
So forget a hook |
I ain’t no durn singer |
Brother, look |
I’m just gonna get some dynamite and then I’ll light my pipe |
And when the timing’s right, I’ll set the skies alight |
Kind of like Juarez calls for Silas Greaves |
To make you fall like a pile of leaves |
Shootin' line after line after line of thieves |
And I’ve touched more gold than a miner’s sleeves |
When I wield dual revolvers, you’ll feel the coldness |
Once in a blue moon, I’m using my holsters |
Shootin' my Colt, I’m too skilled to falter |
Is it any wonder saloons here are closed? |
When you bring a whole platoon filled with soldiers |
I barbecue fools, a new meal for vultures |
High noon, we’re overdue for elevenses |
I left the saloon, it was strewn with your severed limbs |
Bringin' just a shoe to a shootout |
To kick your booty so brutally, you’ll never get my boot out |
Forget a hook |
I ain’t no durn singer |
Brother, look |
I’m just a gunslinger |
So forget a hook |
I ain’t no durn singer |
Brother, look |
I’m just a gunslinger |
I’m just a mean-ass gunslinger |
And I guess that’s all I’ll ever be |
But lemme tell you |
That’s all I ever wanna be |
A mean-ass gunslinger, pardner |
Beg your pardon, ma’am |