Many blues singers and writers have penned various ditties with "firearm themes".
Johnny Winter and Robert Johnson come to mind:
Dallas by Johnny Winter
"Goin' back to Dallas, take my razor and my gun
Goin' back to Dallas, man, take my razor and my gun, oh yeah
Lots of people lookin' for trouble, man, sure gonna give 'em in some
I believe old Dallas, man, is the meanest town I know
I believe that Dallas, man, is the meanest town I know
Because you're not safe in Dallas, I don't care where you go
You know that I'm evil, just wanna have some fun
There's so much s*** in Texas, I'm bound to step in some
Goin' back to Dallas, take my razor and my gun
If there are people lookin' for trouble, sure gonna give 'em some
I load up my revolver, sharpen up my knife
Some redneck messin' with me man, I'm bound to have his life
Down to Dallas, take my razor and my gun
Man, people there lookin' for trouble, sure gonna give 'em some"
And this example of musical art, truth, and beauty from Robert Johnson
"32-20"
'F I send for my baby and she don't come.
'F I send for my baby, man, and she don't come.
All the doctors in Hot Springs sure can't help her none.
And if she gets unruly, things she don't wan' do.
And if she gets unruly and thinks she don't wan' do.
Take my 32-20, now, and cut her half in two.
She got a .38 special but I b'lieve it's most too light.
She got a .38 special but I b'lieve it's most too light.
I got a 32-20, got to make the camps alright.
If I send for my baby, man, and she don't come.
If I send for my baby, man, and she don't come.
All the doctors in Hot Springs sure can't help her none.
I'm gonna shoot my pistol, gonna shoot my Gatling gun.
I'm gonna shoot my pistol, gotta shoot my Gatling gun.
You made me love you, now your man have come.
Ah-oh, baby, where you stay last night?
Ah, baby, where you stayed last night?
You got the hair all tangled and you ain't talkin' right.
Her .38 special, boys, do it very well.
Her .38 special, boys, it do very well.
I got a 32-20 now, and it's a burnin'.
If I send for my baby, man, and she don't come.
If I send for my baby, man, and she don't come.
All the doctors in Wisconsin sure can't help her none.
Hey, hey, baby, where'd you stay last night?
Hey, hey, baby, where'd you stay last night?
You didn't come home until the sun was shining bright.
Ah-oh, boy, I just can't take my rest.
Ah-oh, boy, I just can't take my rest.
With this 32-20 laying up and down my breast."
And from the inimitable Howlin' Wolf:
"44"
"I wore my .44 so long, I've made my shoulder sore.
I wore my .44 so long, I done made my shoulder sore.
Well, I'm wondrin everybody, where'd my baby go.
Well, I'm so mad this mornin, I don't know where in the world to go.
Well, I'm so mad this mornin, I don't know where in the world to go.
Well, I'm lookin for me some money, pawned gun to have some gold."
Of course, no list would be complete with Tennessee Ernie Ford's
"Shotgun Boogie"
There it stands in the corner with the barrel so straight
I looked out the winder and over the gate
The big fat rabbits are jumpin' in the grass
Wait 'till they hear my old shotgun blast
Shotgun boogie, I done saw your track
Look out Mr. Rabbit when I cock my hammer back
Well, over on the ridge is a scaly bark
Hickory nuts so big you can see'em in the dark
The big fat squirrels, they scratch and they fight
I'll be on that ridge before daylight
With a shotgun boogie, all I need is one shot
Look out bushy-tails, tonight you'll be in the pot
Well, I met a pretty gal, she was tall and thin
I asked her what she had, she said a Fox four-ten
I looked her up and down, said boy this is love
So we headed for the brush to shoot a big fat dove
Shotgun boogie, boy the feathers flew
Look out Mr. Dove when she draws a bead on you
I sat down on a log, took her on my lap
She said wait a minute bud, you got to see my pap
He's gotta sixteen gauge choked down like a rifle
He don't like a man that's gonna trifle
Shotgun boogie, draws a bead so fine
Look out big boy, he's loaded all the time
Well, I called on her pap like a gentleman oughter
He said no brush hunter's gonna get my daughter
He cocked back the hammer right on the spot
When the gun went off I outrun the shot
Shotgun boogie, I wanted weddin' bells
I'll be back little gal, when your pappy runs out of shells
All "pro gun", don't you think?