moccasin creek - middle finger lyrics
[intro: brahma bull]
moccasin creek comin’ back at you again
now i can’t tell you the whole story because i’ve never been there
but my boy, sandbox has and here’s his story
so check it out
[verse 1: brahma bull]
my boy sandbox has a story to tell
after tour number two he told it to me well
he said haji was everywhere boilin’ in the heat
baggy eyes from no sleep with blisters on his feet
he spoke of no food said it was hot as the sun
and he came back home with notches in his gun
he had a war cry, evil look in his eye
had hate in his heart wishin’ all of ’em fry
told me ’bout the long nights with no stars in the sky
he couldn’t count the number of times that he asked himself why
either them or him, sandbox didn’t hide
and this is what he told me was his marchin’ cry
[chorus: cb3 & brahma bull]
hey, middle east (he said, “i’m talkin to you”)
won’t you meet my middle finger (yeah, he was p+ssed)
i hate your oil, i hate your riches
i hate all of you son of a b+tches
and i ain’t afraid (he ain’t afraid, he told me the truth)
you martyrs like to think
that you are in the terror business (yeah, he said they’re confused)
but we built the bomb and i’ll tell you son
you don’t want to mess with the good old usa (and i’m gonna take his word for it and so should you)
[instrumental break]
[bridge: brahma bull]
my boy sandbox i’ve been talkin’ about, well check it out
here it is, right out of his mouth, sandbox baby
[verse 2: sandbox & brahma bull]
i’m the sandbox reppin’ one one b
i am the infantry follow me (yeah)
the army’s middle finger and the world’s police (uh huh)
i’ll fight to the death if necessary (woo)
posted on a rooftop, nightfall, sun drops
bagdad, iraq, waitin’ for the fun to start
lace up your boots boys, i’m about to shoot boy
and et ’em feel the wrath of our sick ass noise toys (d+mn)
.556 and 7.62, fifty cal rapid fire, whatcha gonna do
tell you what they do ’cause i seen it first hand
saw the middle finger, shot, ducked and ran
[chorus: cb3 & brahma bull]
hey, middle east (you heard him that’s the truth)
won’t you meet my middle finger (sandbox, right off the roof baby)
i hate your oil, i hate your riches
i hate all of you son of a b+tches
and i ain’t afraid (he ain’t afraid, two tours and he came back home safe)
you martyrs like to think
that you are in the terror business (it just don’t make no sense, you heard it)
but we built the bomb and i’ll tell you son
you don’t want to mess with the good old usa (and that’s the d+mn truth)
[outro: cb3]
and if this old song offended you
well, you can kiss my country ass
i don’t like you anyway
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