On the Loose

All you mothers, check the backpack of your daughters
You might be shocked what you will find
There’s a new kid in town, He no Charlie Brown
He’s a menace and a thief

He walks around with a boombox on his shoulder
Listening to D.C. rock
He sells weed on the street, let’s not be misguided
There’s no such thing as soft drugs

What’s next? House parties? Burning Bibles?
Alcohol? Orgies? Slashed tires?
Y’all know, what to do – start a fire
Let’s burn all the tapes and amplifiers

As for little mister drug-dealer-low-lifе-rocker
We’ve consultеd the chief
But why the hell you’re eating donuts during city council?
Have you been smokin’ weed?