Текст песни .357

living on the street like a punk and i sell my soul just to get that junk while the cops beat down on my head i keep it to myself but i gotta keep pushing .357 right to my head pull that trigger and then i'm dead living on the street in a box and i run like hell from the threat of the cops while my walls come tumbling down i keep on trying to push push struggle i said i'd be the one i swear i'll be the one