Mr. Kalashnikov,
We owe it all to you
Every common man with a gun in his hand
Is what we gotta do She’s got a stamped receiver
I dressed her all in black
A picatinny fore grip
I hold her tight
'Cause I like it like that
I squeeze her twenty pound trigger
Stock from the factory
All the sissy little gear queers
Switch 'em out
But that’s alright by me Built for one thing
There ain’t no doubt
Take her to the range to get my yaya’s out
Mr. Kalashnikov,
We owe it all to you
Every common man with a gun in his hand
Is what we gotta do She breaks down easy
Don’t need to be clean
To do the dirty thing she does
Soviet farmboy’s dream
You don’t need to be a genius
To get a little action
Full auto spray and pray
Is gonna get you some traction