Verse 1:
Okay, bring whiskey, gunplay's risky
Ocelot hoof raise, roof made tinny
Drop, lift suitcase, newspage lip read
You'll say the worst and for her sakes hit me
Fake titty, scarred up nipple
Heavy on the [artwork] arson riddle
Smoke cleared, goat beard, hard luck symbol
With his finger on the trigger of a lost scud missile
Trust triple, funds in the Caymans
Dr. Demento, d** for the famous
Suicide hot line rushing to save him from the cops
And to stop him from punching the patients
[SunSaver], rooms at the spa
Take what you need when you move modern rock
Savor the cream, cause your crew's Haagen-Dazs
While I ride with the princess and Ookla the Mok
Who got the Mott's? Porkchop greasy
Keys to the Jeep and a [school bought CB]
Money in the sock and the Corn Cob leafy
Like war isn't hell but it sure isn't easy
Hook:
Now let's get the chains and the busted pipes
Cause they got planes and trucks to drive
And they get paid for us to die
But not enough for them to fight
We got spirit, no we don't
But we got black eyes and a broken nose
And A Few Good Men but most of those
Are drunk in the back, singing “Row Your Boat”
Verse 2:
Bring gravy, some say crazy
Balconies, blankets, unsafe baby
Hallowed be thy name of a one plane Navy
I once sold shirts at an upstate Macy's
Unsavory, [Miniman me]
A six nation army vs. a Miller family
Old No. 7 in the pitcher brandy
Cause I never met a stripper that the liquor can't feed
Dance freak, I roll with your head up
More CHiPs than the highway patrol pancetta
Trix for kids not [for bovine leather]
So we only going in if we got coats and Berettas
Shock jockey, land speed drifter
Sipping on some syrup from the Ganges River
Kick it on the yellow bus, Andy's bitter
Cause I'm giving it to hell and krumping Aunt Bee's sister
Can't live her, forfeit the front
And head for the hills where we'll forest the funk
A bullet in his belly and a sword in his tongue
Like war isn't easy but it sure isn't fun
Hook:
Now let's get the chains and the busted pipes
Cause they got planes and trucks to drive
And they get paid for us to die
But not enough for them to fight
We got spirit, no we don't
But we got black eyes and a broken nose
And A Few Good Men but most of those
Are drunk in the back, singing “Row Your Boat”