Ex-Cop lyrics

An entourage of personal demons All packing serious heat Nickel-plated desert eagles And I'm feeling weak Walk up to you and strip you where you stand trembling Walk up and stick a gun in your face Hand over all the fuckin' guns Hand over the drugs, you fuck Fired up the old acetylene torch Lit a cigarette and went to work Completely self-absorbed Don't give a fuck about Who or what you know Just care about the ammo And the three keys of coke