We're street smart, spoiling for a fight
Gonna get some tonsil bath and get paid
We are the fuming children of the night
We always hassle when get ourselves laid
Driving you loco if you're fly-by-night
On a whippersnapper like you we take it out
We're gonna bop you on the block, Mr.Right
You gotta part with your bucks and dropp out
We don't turn tail and run when a pigmobile comes
As the men in blue pick up their heaters and aim
We ain't gonna give it up, they can beat their gums
In the shoot-out, we gonna get ahead of the game
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem