I am not an army of one-
You don’t get that lucky.
I’m what they call overkill,
And you’ve got a hell of a bill.

I could stand all alone,
But punk, you are unlucky.
From here on out it’s all uphill-
I love it when you call me shrill.

I’ll chew you up like acetone-
Know the thing about Kentucky?
We’re pure undistilled and iron will
And motherfucker I’ll die on this hill.