Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Crosshairs, artist - Dangerdoom.
Date of issue: 16.10.2005
Song language: English
Crosshairs |
The fat is in the fire, a fryer made of chicken wire |
Gettin' sick and tired of a friggin' liar |
Pelican, with some very soft mangoes |
A closet full of skeletons and terry cloth Kangols |
Flew the coop, before you hit it, let me warn you |
She did a cool hula-hoop but don’t get any on you |
It’s all a big scam to make y’all eat pig ham |
When he’s on the mic he’s like the triggerman, FIGJAM |
DOOM, not to be confused with nobody |
Especially, since the flows he used was so nutty |
Never too woozy to go study |
Crews got no clues like old cruddy Officer McGillicuddy |
Watch your six, he got a lot of more tricks |
Lyrics, bricks, on sticks sure got raw-nytics |
It’s a gift, don’t get shot for kicks |
With the same slick used to plot Sig Figs with |
Spotted at a chick flick, holdin' hands |
The other one on his swollen glands, a golden chance |
That’s why he kept them holes in his pants |
Rollin' in a old van, is what he told his stolen fans |
Is that you? |
True, matched from hat to shoe |
Snafu, snatch any brew, LaBatt’s Blue |
Black Jew like that’s new, patch me through |
No latch attached, skat shoo, catch twenty-two |
Super, he’s loaded dice nice |
And overpriced, an arm and a leg; |
owe 'em your life or your ice |
Villain, nag a grieving old hag |
Snag a bragger by his mic cord and leave him holding the bag |
Come clean, a bunch of dumb mean cream puffs |
A keen drum machine buff, who fiends for more green stuff |
Instead of starvin' there be problems by the goo gobs |
Aight, somebody’s robbin' Lou Dobbs and them tonight |
And he’s on the next flight, moonbound |
And makes it a point to stay away from the goon pound |
Got some peers that’s gone in the lost years |
Tears and cheers, born in the crosshairs |
Why are you listening to this backwards? |
(*reversed*) |
Hey Mr. Thundercleese, what’s that you were singing? |
It is the Robotic Hymn of Doom |
Well I always say, nothin livens up a Robotic Hymn of Doom |
Better than an amazing pair of jugs! |