If I pull my finger on you
Would you pull your trigger?
Bang clack clack pop pop
How many have to drop before it stops
Big man with a trigger
What makes him bigger by blasting off a cap
But how do you figure?
The number one son-of-a-gun is named death
A thief of life, a poacher of breath
It’s against me here’s a dead ringer
You draw the gat
And I’ll pull my finger
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