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Body Count - Body Count lyrics
You know sometimes I sit at home, you know, and watch TV and I wonder what it would be like to live someplace like the Cosby show, Ozzie and Harriet, you know, where the cops come and got you cat outta the tree and all your friends died of old age. But you see, I live in South Central and unfortunately... SHIT AIN'T LIKE THAT! IT'S REAL FUCKED UP! Goddamn what a brotha gotta do To get a message through To the red, white and blue? What I gotta die Before you realize I was a brotha with open eyes? The world's insane While you drink champagne And I'm livin in black rain You try to ban the A.K. I got ten of em stashed With a case of hand grenades Tell us what to do....Fuck you! Tell us what to do....Fuck you! Tell us what to do....Fuck you! Tell us what to do....Fuck you! You know what you'd do If a kid got killed on the way to school Or a cop shot your kid in the backyard Shit would hit the fan mothafucka And it would hit real hard I hear it every night, another gunfight The tension mounts On with the Body Count Yo, Beatmaster V, take these mothafuckas to South Central (Drum solo) I hear it every night Another gunfight The tension mounts On with the Body Count Last weekend 37 kids killed in gang warfare in my backyard (Guitar solo) Yo, Earnie C, take these mothafucka home (Guitar solo) Yeah, we in the house, Body Count fools, 1991 mothafuckas I hear it every night Another gunfight The tension mounts On with the Body Count Goddamn what a brotha gotta do To get a message through To the red, white and you? What I gotta die before you realize I was a nigga with open eyes? The world's insane While you drink champagne And I'm livin in black rain Don't you hear the guns You stupid, dumb, dick-suckin, bum politicans Tell us what to do....Fuck you! Tell us what to do....Fuck you! The tension mounts... |
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