Lyrics |
I have the road in my blood I drive a custom van I play the tunes I'm the neighborhood ice cream man So don't you mess this boy around The other day when the clinic had it's local debut Some chicks were trying to picket The doctor threatened to sue I don't care if it's a baby or a tissue blobbut if we run out of youngsters I'll be out of a job And so II did my dutycleaning up the neighborhood I blew up the clinic real good Try and catch me coppers Your stinkin' badges better think again Before you mess this boy around I've hung in Saigon just to see the special effects I've hung from gravity boots for my napoleon complex It's time to close Ohhh.... There she blows. History In the making You picked a fight.I pick dynamite I blew up the clinic real good. Preacher on a corner Calling it a crime The ends don't justify the means anytime I stood up on my van I yelled " Excuse me, sir Ain't nothin' wrong with this countrya few plastic explosives won't cure"
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