Middle Finger

(альбом: Allowed To Be Loud - 2011)

Moccasin Creek comin back at ya again
Now I can't tell you the whole story because I've never bee there
But my boy, Sandbox has and here's his story
So check it out

My boy Sandbox has a story to tell
After tour number two he told it to me well
He said Haji was everywhere
Boilin in the heat
Baggy eyes from no sleep with blisters on his feet
He spoke of no fun
Said it was hot as the sun
And came back home
With notches in his gun
He had a war cry
Evil look in his eye
Had hate in his heart
Wishin all of them fry
Told me bout the long nights
With no stars in the sky
He couldn't count the number of times
He asked himself why
Either them or him
Sandbox didn't hide
And this is what he told me
Was his marchin cry

Hey, Middle East (he said, I'm talkin to you)
Won't you meet my middle finger (yeah, he was pissed)
I hate your oil
I hate your riches
I hate all of you son of a bitches
And I ain't afraid (he ain't afraid. He told me the truth)
You martyrs like to think
That you are in the terror business (yeah, he said they were confused)
But we built the bomb
And I'll tell you son
You don't want to mess
With the good ol USA (and I'm gonna take his work for it and so should you)

My boy Sandbox I've been talkin about... we check it out
Here it is. Right out of his mouth. Sandbox baby

I'm the Sandbox reppin one one B
I am the infantry follow me (yeah)
The army's middle finger and the world's police
Fight to the death if necessary
Posted on a rooftop nightfall sun drops
Bagdad Iraq waitin for the fun to start
Lace up your boots boys
I'm about to shoot boy
Let em feel the wrath of our sick ass noise toys
556 and 762 fifty cal rapid fire whatcha gonna do
Tell ya what they do cause I seen it first hand
Saw the middle finger shot ducked and ran

Hey, Middle East (you heard him that's the truth)
Won't you meet my middle finger (Sandbox, right off the roof baby)
I hate your oil
I hate your riches
I hate all of you son of a bitches
And I ain't afraid (he ain't afraid. Two tours and he came back home safe)
You martyrs like to think
That you are in the terror business (it just don't make no sense. You heard it)
But we built the bomb
And I'll tell you son
You don't want to mess
With the good ol USA (and that's the damn truth)

And if this old song offended you
Well, you can kiss country ass I don't like you anyway