I was shooting in the back of the carWhen the window smashed for the police carsI was swimming through the streets of New YorkWith my cocaine dagger and throats to cutI was making a cryI was making a cryI was making a cryI was making a cryShe was a hooker at the age of sixteenAll she wanted was the money she didn't needAnd all it needed was a gunShe was a junkie and I know it's clichéBut then so was her lifeI mean she lived in L.A.And I was making a cryI was making a cryI was making a cryI was making a cryI was making a cryI was making a cryAnd I just lost everythingAnd the world and it turned to RothschildAnd far from homeIt's the only disinfection she's ever told me aboutIt's the only disinfection she's ever told me aboutIt's the only disinfection she's ever told me aboutIt's the only disinfection she's ever told me aboutAnd it was making her cryIt was making her cryIt was making her cryIt was making her hideAnd it was making her cryIt was making her cryWe'll see you next time.See you next time.See you next time.See you next time.See you next time.See you next time.See you next time.See you next time.See you next time.