I was born to have my hair in the breeze
With a cigarette in my mouth and a beer between my knees
Talking to girls like any bad boy would
Touching tithes in my mind and using real bad words
Red, red, red on the head
Red on the head like a dick on a dog
I was just a pistol mamma couldn't control
Man, she used to try and love me but she don't anymore
And I'm diseased and dangerous but I feel just fine
I'm a mean mother-scratcher and I don't mind dying
Red, red, red on the head
Red on the head like a dick on a dog
And when I die I'm gonna take my test
And I'll be flying with them angels once I cash my check
Then I'll be reincarnated and I'll come on back
Ready for the second coming, world under attack