| «Also the, hearing from the defense department that they launched
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| Some fifty Tomahawk cruise missiles
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| Not only from ahh US ships but also from British
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| Submarines in the area»
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| Draft me! |
| I wanna fight for my country
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| Jump in a Humvee and murder those monkeys!
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| Draft me! |
| I’m too dedicated to fail
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| Justice must prevail (Justice must prevail!)
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| Yo, I wanna get drafted, I wanna see somebody get they ass kicked
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| With standard military tactics
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| Fuck brass knuckles, I’ll punch you with brass fists
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| Totally flowin with my emotions in my moment of madness
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| I’ll wake up the whole barracks, murder you on your mattress
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| And look at you like, «What's the matter?»
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| You better go back to your bed, before I have to act up
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| You might be the next one to get ripped you jacker!
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| You better not tell the captain
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| I might accidentally shoot you with the mack 10 at target practice
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| Runnin' through the obstacle course, up and across
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| Over the logs, five more, damn soldier you strong
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| Come on, I wanna be agile and docile
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| Break ya legs like popsicle sticks, put you in a hospital
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| Stand over top of you, put a pillow over your nostrils
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| And just feel so sorrowful
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| It doesn’t make me feel powerful, it’s just a parable
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| It’s just a rhyme really none of this is tangible
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| So don’t ask me about it, I won’t get angry at you
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| And before I get angry, I just won’t answer you
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| You better go get in shape or lift some weights nigga
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| Cuz next time I see you I’mma be a ape nigga
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| Lemme find out you still callin out my name
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| I’ll crash into your tour bus with a plane nigga
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| Fuckin with my freedom, leave a muh’fucker bleedin
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| Leave 'em in pain like a infant when he teethin
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| It’s huntin season, and ya loved ones grievin
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| Cuz I never back up (no sir) I never back down
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| Ask Brown (Ha!) From the bell to the last round
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| Face down, dick in the dirt, hit 'em where it hurt
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| Make the enemy my lil' bitch in a skirt
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| Cuz when it rained it poured, this ain’t a game it’s war
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| One goal, one aim son, same as yours
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| Alotta pain to endure, terrain to explore
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| And I’mma hold my weapon right cuz I was trained in the Corp
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| You don’t want no trouble, whole city reduced to rubble
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| And we gon' make it happen, quick, fast, and on the double
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| Draft me!
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| So y’all best go get y’all shuffles!
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| (Draft me) The situation’s gettin ugly
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| So who better but me, and put to sleep the enemy
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| Draft me, pass me the M-16
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| Give me a buzz cut, ask me if I give a fuck
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| I’m comin out blastin, military four-fashion
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| Twelve close castin, for weapons of mass-distraction
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| Outlastin all the privates in my company
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| Fightin for my family, and the cats that grew up with me
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| My Band of Brothers, rarely just smother the enemy
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| Razor blades cut ya face and leave a scar so you remember me
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| Lurkin, to leave y’all with bloody red turbans
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| Screamin «Jihad!» |
| while y’all pray to a false god
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| We ready for, all out war, it’s time to settle the score
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| Grab a .44 and dump into nigga’s door
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| Draft me, you ain’t even gotta ask me, I’m ready
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| With the Rambo machete, using tactics that’s deadly
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| Draft me, I swear to God, we ready for the Taliban
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| Drop the bomb, and huddle with some nuclear laws, come on!
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| Truthfully, I wouldn’t wanna go to war if they asked me
|
| I’d rather puff hashish and talk about headies and Lassie
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| I was just sayin to Canibus last week
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| I heard a record called Channel 0 that was mad deep
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| When I’m overseas I can’t eat, the food is nasty
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| Bis has a seafood fancy, I’m allergic to crabby
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| G’head draft me, you’re all in my new family
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| I’ll have a good time wavin gats at them arab sheikhs
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| If I get hit, one of the team’ll carry me
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| So g’head draft me, g’head draft me
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| «The only way to pursue peace is to pursue those that threaten it
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| We did not ask for this mission, but we will fulfill it…» |