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-oh-oh
Im out of control
Well, baby, when I see your pretty face
I say, whoa-oh-oh
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 in the arab spring
I am the bullet in your magazine

I'm say, whoa-oh-oh
I'm out of control
Well, baby, when I see your pretty face
I say whoa-oh-oh
God rest your fucking soul

'Cause, baby, baby eyes
Well, baby, baby eyes
Well, baby, baby, I was born to kill

Composição: Billie Joe Armstrong / Green Day