The purpose is semi-sacred

Your city in the crosshairs, because of abuses of power, like
That you shoot Batty Boys and boycott a race
But we leave you in peace until someone smears graffiti on my palace building
That means war
You sit in class collectively, pretending to be a pseudo-Gee
Who deals hashish-peace from plastic bags in demolition houses at night
Until someone shoots you bastard in the dachshund legs
Because you're selling cat litter as speed, that means war
And so I go into battle with euphoria
Let the fists fly and aim with gun barrels
98 weeks later my sweetheart has remained chaste
But has fallen in love again, that means war
Ah, if I do it to Isolde, the slut becomes a wetland
And give her the club until a water column shoots out of her
Fuck her so hard, from now on it's lights out for her
Because she's lying on plastic tubes, that means war
Recently someone on the street called catch him, the thief
Everyone freaks out and wriggles like a salmon on a smoking skewer
They get helicopters because the purse snatcher is fleeing
And I miss the Germany game, that means war

Into the abyss, the cannons need fodder
Comrades spit guts, heads burst
Who will applaud me when I die
And my son sees his mother crying her eyes out?
Yes, that means war

You thought
We were past that age
But I'd rather cut down trees
Before I get lost in the forest
And you thought
We were past that age
But what I learned yesterday
Is smoke and mirrors again tomorrow

In a fenced-off area where there's no night lighting
I have suspicion and curiosity, what is your goal?
Are you fucked up devil's servants? Do you create leukemia?
You deny my theory? That means war
You eat the cobblestone if you don't shut your yap right away
And they find you in some town near Neuruppin
In a barrel of acid, because otherwise the neighbors would smell you
Believe me, this is not a role play, that means war
Although a trench lies between our two half-timbered houses
You do a favor by watering my apple trees
I thank you with a homemade crumble quiche
You make one smacking noise too many, that means war
Ah, yes I hate German MCs, there's Asiklatsche
While they pull on the water pipe
Come to the battle, your weapons are a throat rot
And aim at me with cotton balls, that means war
As long as my hash dealer deals
I smoke like an Apache chief Peace and my nose has to pull like a plow horse
If you pour schnapps into the fire, I get feelings of hatred
If they take away my motor vehicle, that means war

Into the abyss, the cannons need fodder
Comrades spit guts, heads burst
Who will applaud me when I die
And my son sees his mother crying her eyes out?
Yes, that means war

You thought
We were past that age
But I'd rather cut down trees
Before I get lost in the forest
And you thought
We were past that age
But what I learned yesterday
Is smoke and mirrors again tomorrow

Into the abyss
We are the good ones
Hollahi, Hollahi
Into the abyss
Hollahi
We are the good ones
That means war

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