by Earl P. Holt III
A city that could soon lay you in the ground.
Bet your life insurance you’ll lose your life there,
Run into the ground by a Jewish night-mayor.
Almost every weekend there’s bodies around,
The gun-fights of hoodlums, a most common sound.
But restrictive gun laws just aren’t effective,
Enacted by pols who are all defective.
The city’s run by Jews and blacks and commies,
Might as well be run by children or zombies.
A city where most tax revenues vanish,
So “Democrats” can buy Caddies and hashish.
Former home of Sharpton and John Wayne Gacy,
To live there you gotta be down-right crazy.
Chicago, it’s known as that murderin’ town.
Be careful so the nigros don’t mow you down.