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Down south soldier,
Third world soldier.
My vengeance will be swift and terrible,
Many will die!
I am the distance between two points,
Forgotten, a Void.
I dig holes brother.
Well, I've got a bone to pick,
And a nerve to pluck,
A skin to get under,
And a home to wreck.
I've got ends to meet,
So I've got a job to do.
Acrimonious and sanctified.
Call me what you will.
Stick to your guns,
The difference is mine are loaded.
Taste the sting of your arrogance,
Stuck in this screeching b***h called life.
Drop the coins and send you to Charon.
I will have my vengeance,
In this life or the next.
Well, I've got a sucker to punch,
And a back to stab,
A head to kick in,
And a throat to slit.
I've got a job to do,
Harsh and unrepentant.
Step back before you're the next to get served,
With some Southern hospitality