Ex-cop Lyrics

An entourage of personal demons
All packing serious heat
Nickel-plated desert eagles
And I'm feeling weak

Walk up to you and strip you where you stand trembling
Walk up and stick a gun in your face

Hand over all the f*ckin' guns Hand over the drugs, you f*ck

Fired up the old acetylene torch
Lit a cigarette and went to work
Completely self-absorbed

Don't give a f*ck about
Who or what you know
Just care about the ammo
And the three keys of coke

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