damn superstitious I sleep the thirteenth away I don't screw the wives of friends I don't piss in the wind, no way I'm so damn superstitious I don't hunt for Charles
rack, and miscreants will rubberneck jalopy euthanasia which will later be regretted when it?s your turn for cremation, and i walk like early man, freak a little witch hunt
in deteriorating zenith pen dragging I hack swords wars for the morbid spreading of mad men Now he's got soul Sitting there licking log cabin in Charlie
some homo sapiens to slay Lost in panicked thoughts, damn Frantic killings constantly, now I'm sought Wanted, but I give a fuck, fool I'm the hunter not the hunted
all wonder, who the female stunner, in the G-G-Hunter Ridin 'round town in a hot pink Hummer, hot like summer With the diamond bangles like Charlie's
pirates set sail to rape any ethnic culture they can plug a mike to. The imperialists rub their hands in glee As the slave-boy hunts out butt-ends in
that we brings to the world like a flood I leap like a tigger and I land with a thud Collasal, causin' earthquakes and the earth shakes constant Kicks more ass than Charles
(feat. Cam'Ron, Charli Baltimore, Dutch & Spade) [Dutch] Drop seis coup Spade and the Dutch Full clip AK Spray when I want Oakwood self Tan and a gun
sold out Lennox Lewis an Evander Holyfield fight, shit we ain't no strong or soft niggaz, we savage damn it, like who?? like the crocodile hunter, that
(Dana Hunt/Charlie Black) "This the season for generosity A time to give and to receive My Christmas list consists of just one sweet dream.... I know
lions out the jungle, then they put 'em in cages Now the cubs live in wildlife, spittin' out razors Hunt or be hunted, a species, livin' in danger Took
how'd ya like my show? Great Violent J can I call ya Joe? I said can we go back to my place I wonder? Then I fucked her like a Jungle Semowen Head Hunter
(Jerry Garcia, Robert Hunter) Cold iron shackles And ball and chain Listen to the whistle Of the evenin' train You know you Bound to wind up dead If
effect they'll destroy this place Enjoy the taste of avoiding space and time with your tongue depressed Flat on the white acid tab like Hunter S. Then
WELL" (chorus) If the funk is on time then we call it punctual we're matchin up the footsteps spiritual and functional like carnivale in Rio the Charlie Hunter
and young I used to try and come, to the neighborhood function Throw on my Izod, say a little something When I was just a youngin, before the days of thuggin How me and Charlie
else is there? Yo don't player hate me, or my tray to (?) We stay at Super 8's and break-fast at Denny's Son we run thick in Hunt Club-ness and short