Body Count - Body Count (live Detroit 92) lyrics

You know sometimes I sit at home, you know And I watch T.V. and I wonder what it would be like To live someplace like, you know, the Cosby show Ozzie and Harriet, you know, where Cops come and got your cat outta the tree All your friends died of old age But you see, I live in South Central Los Angeles and unfortunately... sh*t AIN'T LIKE THAT! IT'S REAL fu*kED 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... f** you! Tell us what to do... f** you! Tell us what to do... f** you! Tell us what to do... f** you! You know what you'd do If a kid got k**ed on the way to school Or a cop shot your kid in the backyard sh** would hit the fan, muthaf**a And it would hit real hard I hear it every night, another gunfight The tension mounts On with the Body Count Yo, Beatmaster, take these muthaf**as To South Central Ha ha Yeah f** that I hear it every night Another gunfight The tension mounts On with the Body Count Last weekend thirty-seven kids k**ed in gang warfare In my backyard No! No! No! Yo, Ernie C., take these muthaf**as home Yeah Yeah, we in the house, Body Count fools, 1991 muthaf**as 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 n***a 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 s**in', bum politicians Tell us what to do... f** you! Tell us what to do... f** you! The tension mounts...