| I need a gun to keep myself from harm
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| The poor people are burning in the sun
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| But they ain't got a chance, they ain't got a chance
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| I need a gun 'cause all I do is dance, 'cause all I do is dance
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| I need a gun to keep myself from harm
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| The poor people are burning in the sun
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| But they ain't got a chance, they ain't got a chance
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| I need a gun 'cause all I do is dance, 'cause all I do is dance
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| In my backpack, I got my act right in case you act quite difficult
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| And your result weaken with anger and discontent
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| Some are seeking and in search of like Nimoy
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| I'm a peace-loving decoy, ready for retaliation
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| I change your whole location to a pine box six under
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| Impulsive, don't ask why or wonder
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| Orders given to me is strike and I'm thunder
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| With lightning-fast reflexes on constant alert
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| From the constant hurt that seems limitless with no drop in pressure
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| It seems like everybody's out to test ya, 'till they see you break
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| You can't conceal the hate that consumes you
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| I'm the reason why you fill up your Isuzu
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| Chill with your old lady at the tilt, I got a ninety-day extension
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| And I'm filled with guilt from things that I seen
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| Your water's from a bottle, mine's from a canteen
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| At night I hear the shots, ring so I'm a light sleeper
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| The cost of life, it seem to get cheaper
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| Out in the desert with my street sweeper
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| "The war is over" so said the speaker with the flight suit on
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| Maybe to him, I'm just a pawn so he can advance
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| Remember when I used to dance, man, all I wanna do is dance
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| I need a gun to keep myself among |