Man, you are in trouble.
I told ya, told ya better not hurt her.
But, boy you did.
Now you had better run,
Run for the hills, Run for your life.
'Cause while you're runnin',
I'll be holding up my pretty black gun,
Aimin' for your feet.
Make ya dance 'pretty boy'.
Make ya scream out in fear.
So, do you feel lucky?
Have you seen what you've done to her?
Man, you are so screwed!
Get out'a here, never come back.
For if you do, i'll be holding up my smokin' gun.
So, you know now,
That what you've done,
is going to injure you badly.
So here's a bit of advice, and boy you better listen.....
Dude, you have just gotta get out of here.....
Dude, Run.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem