Supercop from motor city transferred into town
Shot to bits and resurrected, out to bring disorder down
Leather jacket, shining chrome, cruising down the boulevard
He's cold as ice and twice as hard
Walking slow and talking wise
An Auto 9 in his Levis
You killed me but I came back to life
You thrill me so come one, let's party like it's 1985
He has no name, he plays the game
Shooting up the party scene
Directives four, he knows the score
He's half man and half machine
State of the art- bang bang!
It's not what, it's who you know
If you wanna serve the public trust
Call 9-1-1 or 9-0-2-1-0
I came to murder Ronny Cox, Ronny Cox is my boss
I have no wife, my wife is gone, I'm here to kill Steve Berkoff
I'm posing as a journalist working for the OCP
You'd buy that for a dollar? Get the fuck outta here!
Hands of steel and a cheeky grin
Ferrari wheels and a metal skin
Special chair, loves to swear, grieving wife
Back to life
OCP, banan-ee, tail pipe gag
Empty mag
Arm shot off, likes to scoff, silly laugh
Abandoned gaff
Good at shootin', robe- a-lootin', Rolling Stone
No-one's home
Baby food, knows the hood, warehouse ruse
Metal shoes
Cobra cannon, no right angles, supercop
Cocaine drop
Inspector Todd, Clarence Bodd', Judge Reinhold
His face is cold
Read the rights of rudeness in the first degree
Dead or alive, you're coming with me
Searching for the sweet narc action hidden in coffee grounds
Play it straight, stay outta trouble, Supercop's around
Dining out on baby food, I always work alone
Microchips and coils of wire replaced my flesh and bone