Hobo With a Shotgun

There is a place In our streets Where the slime of world resides I feel my self as putrid As the ones who kill my annihilation Rich are the richest And poor still the same But I'm already ready For explode and strat the fight I don't have any friends But I have a shoutgun So you better run away Or I will spill your blood today To much empty bottles Emptiness behind those My conscience will prevail Over the bullets that'll explode your head I will clean the trash of the world With every shot I'll make My shotgun it's loaded So get away! I don't have any friends But I have a shoutgun So you better run away Or I will spill your blood today I am the hobo with a shotgun