I remember when I was 'bout 2 years old
In a play pen, on a grassy knoll
Countin' hollow points, waving at cars
With some new schoolbooks Mr. Oswald said were ours
Mama would take us to work and some Cuban held our hand
Mama was a Hitman
We'd cross the country changing schools
Mama and me and some guy named Raul
I failed the fourth grade cause they said I was dumb
They found the principal floatin' in a 55-gallon drum
Then all the teachers all put me on the straight-A plan
Mama was a Hitman
I tried basketball in the 7th grade
You could count on one hand the shots that I made
I got to practice so little but I didn't play none
Until the coach found an ice pick stuck threw his cranium
The assisstant coach said, "Son, I'm you biggest fan."
Mama was a Hitman
She baked cyanide cookies and red car bombs
All the while disguised as a soccer mom
Our little league coach was James Earl Ray
Our team pictures were taken by the cia
She could whack out a witness while workin' the concession stand
Mama was a Hitman
Our babysitter was Mr. Something Sirhan
Mama was a Hitman
She could build a bomb in a bowl of Raisin Bran
Picked us up from school and we flew to Afghanistan
Mama was a Hitman
