text: Chillin in the whip with a schemin bad chick bout five in the morn Im lit 
  Lightin up my black in the back of the donk then we bout to go hit a lick 
  Sky headed low to the ground all I see is the mist and the moon thats it 
  Jump out the whip and we running through the mist got a shotty that ya grippin thats it 
  Stop at the door, window down, I take a look inside and I see no dro 
  Live by the gas so we looking at each other, like this is it lets go 
  Kick in the door run up in that motherfucker like all we really need is a dough 
  Take out your wallet put your hands up high if you wanna make it out that door 
  Bout seven people in the diner not including all the cooks and the chick at the bar
  Bunch of hillbillies in the booth in the back, see Nazi tats on their arms
  All I wanted to do was kick down the door and let everybody leave alive
  But now I got another idea in my brain seeing nothing but red in my eyes
  Walk up to the booth, hear the sound of my boots click clack on the old wood floor 
  Looking motherfuckers in their eyes I aint said shit but they scared as a ho
  Two minutes passed and nobody said a word til I came with some crazy shit;
  Do you believe in the book of man tales that you heard when you was a little jit?
  Not another second passed til you heard bloom, bloom and the skinhead drop to the floor
  Rest of the crew didnt do a damn thing, except beg to let em go
  Thought about it for a minute now what I really thought about while I pretended to think
  Chick getting to me cause she thought about the dope but I gotta get rid of that stank
  Bloom, bloom, boom with a thump, thump, thump all the skinheads fall to the ground
  Smile on my face heading out that door then we nowhere to be found
  Word headed out through the land that it was two psychos running round with guns 
  They dont really know how we seeing it now we just two kids tryna have some fun 
  You and me, were not even the same species. I used to be you, then I evolved. From where youre standing, youre a man. From where Im standing, youre an ape. Youre not even an ape. Youre a media person. Medias like the weather, only its man-made weather.
  I guess Wayne you just gotta hold that old shotgun in your hand then it becomes clear, like it did for me the first time. Thats when I realized my one true calling in life... shit, man... Im a natural born killer.