Reaching for the nightstand
my fingers reassure me
as they wrap around
my cold piece of steel
I got one eye on the window
one eye on the back door
wondering if that noise was real
Cross me and you'll find
I ain't the running kind
but if you're feeling lucky friend
Come On In
Newsman on the TV
is starting to concern me
says there's hoodlums
running wild in the street
Raising hell in the neighborhood
cause they think the pickin's good
I ain't scared I'm packing heat
Just Cross me and you'll find
I ain't the running kind
but if you're feeling lucky friend
Come On In
All them politicians forming coalitions
so they can take away my guns
Hell they're thinking like fools
cause bad guys break the rules
that's why we call them criminals son
Give 'em yours I'm keeping mine
I ain't the running kind
Make your peace with the Lord my friend
Come on In
