Story (a cappella) Songtext
von clipping.

Godsmack in a straight-jacket
A mac and a knife
A broad′s back and it's broad back at the taxi a trife
Motherfucker the life lights motherfucker the lights
Fuck it, it′s bright as a motherfucker
He right as a motherfucker
The rain can't stay in those plastic canisters
And the brain pan is pandering
Dang, man, he keeping it tucked (what?)
The nine in the space between his spine and the belt Buckle, the safety is on, fine, his rocker is offline
He rocking that cap fitted, she sit in his lap kissin'
The driver, he laughs, nobody see him, he gas dippin′
The road slick, ass slippin′ and then
He hope they're paying in cash
Sick of these hipster-ass kissers kissing everyone′s ass but his
History major, ain't doing shit with it, but what would he do
Teach at the fucking new school of the arts?
For a bunch of hooligan upstarts
Full of themselves, not smart enough to grapple with anything real

That′s when the Jaguar emblem crashed through the driver-side window
And the driver of the Jaguar's head left his body still sitting in the rental
The couple all bloody, tongues punctured by each others teeth, died and didn′t let go
The taximan's been bisected by the hood of a car he'd never buy, probably would never drive


Randy was the first on the scene, seeing this, couldn′t breathe for a hot sec
Just transferred up from the desk, cause he thought he was ready, but he not yet
Hashbrown and eggs on his shirt, and the pant leg, soon as he caught a whiff
Hadn′t thrown up more than once since he was a little kid and his brother made him drink a half bottle of
Pine-Sol, spinal everywhere, he wrote the report as soon as he left the scene
Mind all everywhere, he gotta get more booze soon or he gonna scream
Time all funny when his stomach goes skydive, what year was it last?
Hadn't had a drink in about five, but mama said every day was just made for sipping away, he may be slipping
But hey, nobody said they was perfect

Randy got somebody by the collar, pistol to the face
Swore he just said something ′bout his mama, say it to my face
Not so funny when I got a chopper all up in your mouth
Where the fucking jokes? You a comedian, man, spit it out
Spit it out
Spit it out
Why you ain't gon′ spit it out?
Break a couple teeth and give him something he can spit about
Blood dripping all on his wrist, boy Randy got it cold, right
That Police Academy shit, he don't run from no fights

He don′t run from nothin'
Nothing left for discussin'
Scumsuckers all over drinkin′, smokin′, yellin' and cussin′
Last week got a call 'bout some drug dealer stabbing his cousin
These cats is animals, they should be in a zoo or somethin′

And he protect and serve
These bitches got some nerve
Trying not to serve him when he keep killers off of they curbs
Killers off of they streets
These killers off of they minds
So they can go to sleep at night and think that everything's fine

He had a glass of wine to calm him down, that was a′ight
Was talking to this sexy girl, half black and half white
He asked her what she wanted, ordered up another pint
When they told him he was cut off and all Randy saw was lights
And Randy starts to cry
He can't figure out why

He told his sister walk, unless she stop kissing that guy
She said "You ain't my dad!"
He said "Bitch, catch a cab."
And that′s the last discussion she and Randy ever had