St. Jimmy's coming down across the alleyway
Upon the blvd, like a zip gon on parade
Light of a silhouette, he's insubordinate
Coming at you on the count of 1, 2, 3, 4
My name is Jimmy and you better not wear it out
Suicide commando that your momma talked about
King of the 40 thieves and I'm here to represent
The needle in the vein of the establishment.
I'm the patron saint of the denial with an angel face
And a taste for suicidal cigarettes and ramen
And a little bag of dope.
I am the son of a bitch and Edgar Allan Poe.
Raised in the city under a halo of lights.
The product of war and fear that we've been victimized.
ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?
My name is St. Jimmy. I'm a son of a gun
I'm the one that's from the way outside
I'm a teenage assassin executing some fun
In the cult of life of crime.
I'd really hate to say it but, I told you so
So shut your mouth before I shoot you down dl'boy
Welcome to the club and give me some blood.
I'm the resident leader of the lost and found
It's comedy and tragedy.
It's St. Jimmy and that's my name....
And Don't You F?*!ing Wear It Out
