Jimi the fly, he couldn't decide, was crossing a deadly line
|
Feelin' the heat, the word on the street was a contract for his life
|
He knew all along, if he sung the song, he'd scratch doing time
|
Stepped up to bat, squealed like a rat, now he's running for his life
|
He thought it was sealed, he was making the deal
|
When the feds brought down the sting
|
Under the knife, he was looking at life unless he turned the family in
|
He made up the play with the crooked d.a., never had to serve no time
|
Jimi the fly, organized crime
|
Nowhere to hide, scared deep inside and the walls were closing in
|
He made the mistake, now it's up to fate, and the fear was setting in
|
Feeling the strain, he then changed his name with a hand from Johnny Law
|
They moved him out west, with a bullet proof vest, but you can't Escape the mob
|
Jimi the fly was living a lie on the corner of 8th and 3rd
|
The life of a fink as he swallowed his drink, now his vision was slightly blurred
|
As he left the bar, drivin' up in a car were the suits that covered thugs
|
They fired their rounds, now dead on the ground lies a bloody soaked Jimi the bug
|
|
-----------------
|
Jimi The Fly
|
| Razor |