Soldiers of Fortune

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo i see past everyone else My name is Billy Idol and My influence is heavily felt Do it myself, my DNA inflict your slaughter Like Tony when Coco talked Shit to his daughter As I approach The Hour of Reprisal in a black truck Black Moon, black guns, black metal Black sun Two minutes until midnight, we amped up Homie, stand up Leave the competition blammed up Walk quietly and carry a humongous biscuit I’m that guy that smacked your Moms and fucked your sister I care less whether you love Buddha or Jesus Not even Mohammed could stop These bullets from freezing Your blood ice-cold in your arms and legs Lie in a lifeless pose Cause you’re missing part of your head I often thought if I Could travel through time, what I would do Often I drift between breaths of ganja fumes Seeing mayhem unfold in the yards of schools Seeing Satan on the chrome Screaming God’s a fool Peep the Angel of Death creeping on you Dudes you’re confusing my customers, man You’re not the truth We walk close to the edge and we Don’t care what the limit is This is business We the new Cohens and Simmonses The bad seed You cats are growing your images You don’t know any lyricists You only know what a gimmick is I know about Pine Street Inn I know where The Dimock is I know about guns, drugs, I Know the whole city, kid I know what an idiot is Where he lives with his bitch and his kid For the ditch that he digged was dug I know about hate, I know there’s no love I know about the stress from an AIDS test I fuck with no glove Tattoos from a dirty needle spelling my alias Ask about me in the Bean and they’ll Tell you how real he is I’m the monsoon goon Pistol packing with coke packaging ropes Bringing blades to the back of your throat Every record that I made is Like a package of dope So take a sniff of fury, homie Take a whack of the hope Call me Mr white, call me Whitey Furrah Play me out Call me Devil and I’ll send you to God You pretend to be hard, yo I bring the Jihad I make war on the man that makes war on the D Bismillah ir-Rahman ir-Rahim, caporegime Captain of the team I know I’m uncivilized, I know I’m unclean I know I get high, I know I’m sick I’m obscene Subliminal hymning, original sinning Purple drinks swimming Chasing young loose women There’s flames for the coward Praise for the martyr i’m older, I’m wiser I’m James fucking Carter In the meanwhile you’re going out like Reagan If your girl goes wild, sacrifice that pagan ‘Cause it’s Coka, it’s going down Do you want it by the key Do you want it by the pound? Yo it’s Coka, it’s going down Do you want it by the key Do you want it by the pound? Yo it’s Coka, it’s going down Do you want it by the key Do you want it by the pound? Yo it’s Coka, it’s going down Do you want it by the key Do you want it by the pound? Yo it’s Coka