Alright, with the current political climate and my looooooong history on CCMixter being openly political…

This song is really about WWII Pseudo-Fiction game “Sniper Elite IV : Africa”

It is a song about being a sniper, but in the context of WWII and clearly not shooting at civilians, malls, schools, etc.This has nothing to do with anything going on in contemporary times. This is really a rap song about shooting WWII Nazis, bombing WII Nazis, things most people support in popular fiction.

It is also kind of a “fan” song but only the AI dialogue strays over a potential copyright line with the name Karl, the rest does not. It’s a tribute to “ Sniper Elite”. Anyway, Karl Fairburne is a fictional character and the protagonist of Sniper Elite. So if that bothers you, slice it out. Not that “Karl” is specific enough.

Only the female intro is spoken by AI. There is one AI sound effect “S-Mine explosion” which I created to make this song happen.

The rest were three CC0 pieces from Freesound.org and one CC4att piece from Freesound.org as follows:

Three CC0s…

VERY LOUD Stab.wav by deleted_user_3277771
https://freesound.org/people/deleted_user_3277771/sounds/176550/

Sniper Rifle M24 SFX.mp3 by kennysvoice
https://freesound.org/people/kennysvoice/sounds/351777/


Sniper Rifle by SuperPhat
https://freesound.org/people/SuperPhat/sounds/514228/

And One CC Attribution 4.0
beefed_Up_watermelon_stab_sound by SuperPhat
https://freesound.org/people/Artninja/sounds/743647/

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Lyrics

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Swede-Dish intercom : Karl, we’ve got one shot—Rommel is smuggling Hitler through Tunis tonight. His convoy skirts the Medjerda Valley at dusk. You’ll have eight minutes of sandstorm cover after the RAF strike. Make sure the desert swallows more than tracks.


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Looking through the scope
Looking through the scope
Looking through the scope
bout to squeeze on this dope
Looking through the scope
Looking through the scope
One little pull
you’ve run out of hope

———————

Looking through the scope, nobody sees me
I’m a ghost, a shadow I move discreetly
I move elite see death cannot beat me
I joined his ranks and I go reaping weekly

I look through the scope, his moves are dull
I look through the scope, is it time to cull?
Is it time to squeeze because we don’t pull
It’s this really me or is it all bull

Night before Christmas, arose such a clatter
I squeezed on the trigger and dropped down the hammer
Away from the window it flew like a flash,
Tore open his chest and threw up a splash

He raises his hands with his palms to the sky
Falling to the ground while asking God why
I’m a sniper. I’ve been sent on a mission
To fill a graveyard with little suspicion

———————-

Looking through the scope
Looking through the scope
Looking through the scope
bout to squeeze on this dope
Looking through the scope
Looking through the scope
One little pull
you’ve run out of hope

——————————

Call me Jack the ripper, I use a big knife
In close quarter fights, right between the lights
Unforeseen encounters, Roundhouse and clobber
Reach the sheath and grab the heartstopper

His hands reach out, they grab and they grab
I take my knife and I stab and I stab
There’s no begging and there’s no bartering
When special forces slices a major artery

Soul is hardening bomb parts I’m soldering
Making Nazis win an unlucky lottery
The desert ghost, buried more than most
with suppressed rounds and a silent approach

No ghillie suit, to me that’s just odd
Too much noise to use my welrod
Stack bodies in stairwells the s-mine trap
Silent shot make your guts prolapse

————————-

Looking through the scope
Looking through the scope
Looking through the scope
bout to squeeze on this dope
Looking through the scope
Looking through the scope
One little pull
you’ve run out of hope

——————————

The Kübelwagen won’t take you out of range
The fact you you think can run is strange
Turn your brains into a red spray
From a short distance or two miles away

You see me vs a Sd.Kfz
Is a class outmatched I win easily
Trip wire back up, my path is deadly
You are not ready, my aim is so steady

O.S.S. hit you below the belt
Consider this a gift from Roosevelt
The noose you choose is so close you felt
My breath on your neck so you know who dealt

The final blow, white out like snow
Whether it’s hot or forty below
I’m not like you, I remember every man I kill
I do this for my country not for a thrill

"Desert Ghost"
by coruscate

2025 - Licensed under
Creative Commons
Attribution (4.0)

Click here for how to give credit and other conditions.