Текст песни Don't Tread on Me (Harlem Hellfighters) - 1914

My name is private Johnson, I'm from AEF
The 369th Infantry Regiment.
From Harlem to France,
From ghetto to trench
And honestly, here's not much difference
May 15th, an enemy patrol around twenty huns
Me and a box of grenades, I threw it all
Then took up my rifle, c'mon

191 days under fire, never retire
Men of Bronze go forward or die
Hold one's ground that's why they call us
Hellfighters

God knows I give as good as I got
The fucking Labelle had a magazine clip of
Just three rounds and I fired it all
There was no time for reloading
I swung my rifle
And brought it down with a thrown blow upon the enemy's head
He went down
Crying
And close-in fighting began
I stabbed one Jerry in the stomach,
Felled a lieutenant and took a pistol shot
In my arm before driving his knife between the ribs
Of a soldier who had climbed on my back

I killed four boches and wounded maybe ten
Or maybe five more can't count it well
The only weapon left is my bolo knife
So I climbed up from the ground and charged, hacking away at the foes
There wasn't anything so fine about it
Just fought for my life
A rabbit would have done that