Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun

I'm rollin' down the hill, snowballin', gettin' bigger An explosion in the chamber, the hammer from the trigger I seen him get stabbed, I watched the blood spill out He had more cuts than my man, Chuck Chillout 24 is my age and .22 is my gauge I'm writin' rhymes on a page, I'm goin' off in a rage 'Cause I'm out on a mission, a stolen car mission Had a small problem with the transmission Three on the tree in the middle of the night I have this steak on my head 'cause I got into a fist fight Life comes in phases, take the good with the bad You bought the coins on the street and you know you got had Because it's all high spirit, you know you got to hear it Don't touch the mic, baby, don't come near it It's gonna get you, it's gonna get you It's gonna get you, girl, it's gonna get you Looking down the barrel of a gun Son of a gun, son of a bitch Gettin' paid, gettin' rich Ultraviolence be runnin' through my head Cold medina, y'all, makin' me see red Rapid fire Louie, like Rambo got bullets I'm a die harder, like my kid, Bruce Willis I love girlies, waxin' and milkin' Coordinating trim is my man, Dave Scilken Predetermined destiny is who I am You got your finger on the trigger like the Son of Sam I am like Clockwork Orange, going off on the town I've got homeboys bonanza to beat your ass down Well, I'm mad at my desk and I'll be writin' all curse words Expressing my aggressions through my schizophrenic verse words You're a headless chicken chasin', a sucker freebasin' You're looking for a fist to put your face in Well, get hip, get hip, don't slip, you knuckleheads Racism is schism, on the serious tip