| Jimi the fly, he couldn't decide, was crossing a deadly line | |
| Feelin' the heat, the word on the street was a contract for his life | |
| He knew all along, if he sung the song, he'd scratch doing time | |
| Stepped up to bat, squealed like a rat, now he's running for his life | |
| He thought it was sealed, he was making the deal | |
| When the feds brought down the sting | |
| Under the knife, he was looking at life unless he turned the family in | |
| He made up the play with the crooked d.a., never had to serve no time | |
| Jimi the fly, organized crime | |
| Nowhere to hide, scared deep inside and the walls were closing in | |
| He made the mistake, now it's up to fate, and the fear was setting in | |
| Feeling the strain, he then changed his name with a hand from | |
| Johnny Law | |
| They moved him out west, with a bullet proof vest, but you can't | |
| Escape the mob | |
| Jimi the fly was living a lie on the corner of 8th and 3rd | |
| The life of a fink as he swallowed his drink, now his vision was slightly blurred | |
| As he left the bar, drivin' up in a car were the suits that covered thugs | |
| They fired their rounds, now dead on the ground lies a bloody soaked | |
| Jimi the bug |
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