Go, go, go!

Year of the rat, last of the litter
Somebody shot the babysitter
They say my middle name is danger
The kind you keep away from strangers

I say whoa
I'm out of control
Well, baby, when I see your pretty face
I say whoa
God rest your fucking soul
'Cause baby, baby, I was born to kill

I pulled the trigger for the shooting stars
I am the motor in your crashing car
I am the cherub and the Arab spring
I am the bullet in your magazine

I say whoa
I'm out of control
Well, baby, when I see your pretty face
I say whoa
God rest your fucking soul
'Cause baby baby eyes
Well, baby baby eyes
Well, baby, baby, I was born to kill