Year of the rat, last of the litter
Somebody shot the babysitter
They say my middle name is Danger
The kind to keep away from strangers

I say woah, I’m out of control
Oh baby, when I see your pretty face?
I say woah, God rest your fucking soul
‘Cause baby, baby I was born to kill

I pulled the trigger from the shooting stars
I am the motor in your crashing car
I am the cherub in the Arab spring
I am the bullet in your magazine

I say woah, I’m out of control
Oh baby, when I see your pretty face?
I say woah, God rest your fucking soul
‘Cause baby, baby eyes

Oh baby, baby eyes
Oh baby, baby I was born to… Kill!