Balls

CHORUS

You don’t have the balls to shoot me down!

Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!

You don’t have the balls to watch me drown!

Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!

VERSE 1

You talk forever like it’s a real exercise

Working your jaw muscles by telling lies

That shit’s got to be made out of iron

You think you’ve got balls the size of tires?

You’re shaking and shivering like it’s winter

Your only true pain is like a wooden splinter

You’re no different from the rest of the chickens

Running away when it’s time for ass-kickings

EXTENDED CHORUS

You don’t have the balls to shoot me down!

Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!

You don’t have the balls to watch me drown!

Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!

You don’t have the balls to run this town!

Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!

Cacophony is your greatest sound!

Ugh!

VERSE 2

You’ve got your AK-47 locked and loaded

Your hair trigger temper has all but exploded

You’ve got a belt of grenades around your waist

You rush into battle with a zealot’s kind of haste

You throw your life away over temporary anger

Throw yourself in front of unnecessary danger

You’ve got some shrinkage and it’s not laundry

You can’t axe your way out of your own quandary

EXTENDED CHORUS 2

You don’t have the balls to shoot me down!

Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!

You don’t have the balls to watch me drown!

Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!

You don’t have the balls to ground and pound!

Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!

Check for your nuts in the lost and found!

Rah!

BRIDGE

You don’t wear the pants, but you wear the G-string

Cutting your ass off until you’re no longer breathing

You don’t wear the colors, because they run

Shutting you up will be a lot of fucking fun!

Balls! Balls! Balls! BALLS!