The Mighty Underdogs and MF DOOM - Gunfight

I step out the saloon
About a quarter to noon
Might as well have been a quarter to DOOM
Strapped with my six-shooter
Next to my six pack
My sawed-off, slung over my right shoulder
Hung on my back
Heavy artillery weigh down my belt strap
Ain’t gon' be no killing me
Without the clack clacking crack
Of the hammer slamming down into action
On the chest of any courageous brave soul
Who wanna come test The West
Select the weapon you want
But don’t mess with the best
We promise we can lay ‘em to rest
Make sure they sleepin’ in a closed casket
With skills that’s, obviously
The most murderous
I paint the bullseye, just show me the target
There’s a vest that can stop this
Ain’t been invented yet
If I got ya in my sights, it’s a fair bet
The back of your shirt’s prob'ly wet
And it ain’t just sweat!

(It’s a gunfight)
Ya life on the line with your rep
(It’s a gunfight)
High noon, fight to the death
(It’s a gunfight)
Don’t bring no knives, no fists
(It’s a gunfight)

Squatting, proper aim
Laying on the strong beer
Matching pair o' nickel six poppers
Thrown in our gear see a pure Iroquois
To feed black bellies seeds in need

44’s before the black talons, black stallions
Back o' wagon’s rations holding
For the cash in
What’s the haps, bust the caps
It’s a rap attack
Factor that it could be a trap crack
Catch him at the river bed, nakedly wretched
Blood’ll flow downstream as they shiver
Better check it i’ll be up ahead aways
Hold your fire, stay out the light
Stagecoach wide open, something ain’t right
Shot in the back, felt two hot leds enter me
Enter 12 shells, horse fell
Sent Hell, six enemies
Surrounded by militia
They ‘bout to unmask me
Lastly blew her a kiss and
Made plan B gasted blasphemy

(It’s a gunfight)
Ya life on the line with your rep
(It’s a gunfight)
High noon, fight to the death
(It’s a gunfight)
Don’t bring no knives, no fists
(It’s a gunfight)

Dipped out the saloon about a quarter to five
Jittery but the whiskey put
The jitters behind me
I've been sipping since 12: 50
Now tipsy and blindly
I come into the city square
You see Ol' Black Jack

Oh, oh, you got me you got me

(It’s a gunfight)
Ya life on the line with your rep
(It’s a gunfight)
High noon, fight to the death
(It’s a gunfight)
Don’t bring no knives, no fists
(It’s a gunfight)

Written by:
Lateef Kenneth Daumont, Timothy Jerome Parker, Ethan Lull Parsonage, Daniel Dumile Thompson

Publisher:
Lyrics © ROUGH TRADE PUBLISHING, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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