my fingers seem ta' dance
prance
like an old gun slinger
ready ta' draw
ready to shoot
dead ringer
kick the shit
off a' mt boot
hell son,
this old man can shoot

hands seem ta' have
a mind a' their own
clenched fist
firm wrist
ready ta' twist
& to turn

strike the first blow
never let 'em know
what's comin'
a hummingbird strummin'
there in the air
give 'em a stare
one thst tell's 'em
ya' better beware

'cause i hits
& i can hurt
get angry
in fits & spurts

watch my hands
don't watch my eyes
punches will land
before you dies

i'm a killer
a thriller
or two
wouldn't dance with me
if i was you

i can fight
& i just might
hit your ass
just right

right on the nose
nobody knows
sometimes i do
sometimes you don't
close your book
before it's been wrote

don't look me in the eye
less, son,
you're ready ta' die
a hit
that's all it took
to finish your book