He Sold Guns

I met a man on my travels
He sold guns for a living
At twelve hundred a pop for a clean one
He was making a killing
Anything to feed the family
Money goes out when the bill's in
Even if it meant killing someone else's children

I said it's hard times in the city
He said, "It's hard times everywhere (everywhere)
That's why I keep my three-fifth with me
Let 'em try me if they dare"
Said he's aiming it at your chest
He's not aiming it in the air
Flash flood the whole block when he pulls it
Have it raining everywhere

Take a look at this place
It's a fucking mess
Take a look at this place
It's a fucking mess

Met a man in my dealings
He fed a habit by stealing
Robbed Peter, but never paid Paul
So both started scheming
Last time that I saw him
He said, "He's been clean for days"
That was one week prior to him being found
Stabbed dead in his flat hallway

Take a look at this place
It's a fucking mess
Take a look at this place
It's a fucking mess

Take a look at this place
It's a fucking mess
Take a look at this place
It's a fucking mess