[lyrics by Harry Conklin]
Neon lights are flashing as the tyrants raise their swords
Sounds of metal crashing the avenue
Kings of black leather with words made of steel
Lock all your doors very soon you will feel
Under the knife. Feel
Under the knife. You'll get it in the end.
Under the knife. You'd better run for your life.
'Cause you're under
Bishops of the street, authors of corruption, leaders
in the night just waiting for an eruption.
A rider dressed
in black screams out
"You fuckin' clowns! Bring your best you fools and I will tear him to the ground!"
Hear the rumble around
you, it's a blood curdling sound
Blood stained heads and bodies all are breaking on the ground
A .45 caliber flashing life's ending
with a bang
Tyrants rule the king is dead! We are the gang that reigns!