Оригинален текст
my cousin is in columbia
hunting down the rebels
over fields of bright and shiny coca
over the jungle floor
one-handing a 32
he says: bring her down low now, Im ready to go.
I hunt kids in camouflage
rain down bullets in flight, white light,
barefoot boys run for your lives.
but you cant be nice
you put your gun to their head
and you pull back the pin
and you cant be good
my friend is based in afghanistan
he goes from cave to cave and pulls the trigger
at the first sight of a man
its total anarchy
shooting tracer bullets at night
a high and holy patrol into poppy fields
but you cant be good
you hold up the blood knife
and let it shine in the sun
you gotta be everywhere
Im a guard in guantanamo
I bring the prisoners in
the hoods come off and torture slowly begins
the screams Ive overheard
itd fk up a weaker man
but Im cold, Im so untouchable
and you cant be nice
I got a flak jacket
on my soul with me tonight
and you cant be good