Year of the rat, last of the litter Somebody shot the babysitter They say my middle name is Danger The kind you keep away from strangers
I say whoa I'm out of control Well baby when I see your pretty face I say whoa God rest your fucking soul 'Cuz baby baby I was born to kill
I pulled the trigger for the shooting stars I am the motor in your crashing car I am the cherub in the Arab spring I am the bullet in your magazine
I say whoa I'm out of control Well baby when I see your pretty face I say whoa God rest your fucking soul 'Cuz baby, baby eyes Baby eyes Baby I was born to kill