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...