Body Count - Fuck What You Heard

Yo Body Count’s in tha buildin’
Let me tell you ‘bout some real gangstas

Let’s talk about the blue and the red
Half the dirty muthafuckas should be locked in the feds
Hell yeah
They make laws and break laws
It aint no thing
With half my homies stuck or fuckin’ locked in the bing
Kick it
Fuck that man
These ganstas are cold, hard and wicked
Word
They control our lives
They live off lies
Lies
They look ya in the face
Don’t even wear disguise
Cross the gang muthafucka you die

It’s the Democrips Bloodpublicans (from the gang - from the gang)
Muthafucka got over 90 Fed indictments
Democrips Bloodpublicans
These muthafuckas somehow stay on bail
Help me with this shit
It’s the Democrips Bloodpublicans (from the gang - from the gang)
We already know the government’s gansta cuzz
Democrips Bloodpublicans
Listen fuck whatcha heard both wings are on the same bird

They make us pay ‘em
They call it a tax
On the street it’s called extortion in jack
I see the white people crying government tears
Hey
Black people we’ve been crying for years
Yep
Fox news is on some straight blood shit
CNN is most definitely Crip
This shit is very far from done
Yo muthafucka what set ya from

Democrips Boodpublicans (from the gang - from the gang)
I got homies in jail for weed man
Weed come on cuzz
We’re the Democrips Bloodpublicans (from the gang - from the gang)
People are losin’ they houses worldwide
Man stop it
It’s the Democrips Bloodpublicans (from the gang - from the gang)
Muthf uckas on they yachts talkin’ ‘bout we gonna get to it
Democrips Bloodpublicans
Listen fuck whatcha heard both wings are on the same bird

The whole idea of a two party system is bullshit
Ya know what I’m sayin’
Like we all from the United States
Right we all people
So why the fuck have they decided to split us up (it’s the plan)
It’s all bullshit
I don’t meet you and say ah what’s your political preference
This shit is gangbangin’ cuzz

They got us all fuckin’ twisted (word)
I don’t give a fuck what set you claim
Left wing or right
Yo it’s all the same (yeah)
You’re racist or you’re not (you’re not)
And you ain’t fuckin’ honest just because you claimed cop
Divide and conquer that’s the key to the game
Keep us fighting each other while they rob the train
It’s gangbangin’
The red and the blue
The question is which gang are you

Democrips Bloodpublicans (from the gang - from the gang)
If God wanted us to vote he would have given us candidates
Democrips Bloodrepublicans
Both these muthafuckas is old man
I mean I’m old but God damn
It’s the Democrips Bloodpublicans (from the gang - from the gang)
We’re fucked ya all
Trust me
This shit’s gangbangin’
Democrips Bloodrepublicans
Listen
Fuck whatcha heard both wings are on the same bird

From the gang
From the gang

Body Count

From the gang
From the gang
Fuck whatcha heard both wings are on the same bird

Body Count - Black Voodoo Sex

While ago I told y'all a story about me down in New Orleans meetin' an old lady with a voodoo doll
Well there's more to that story
She had a daughter

Way down in New Orleans
I met this voodoo queen
Finest bitch I ever seen
A human sex machine
A walking wet dream
She said she wanted me

She said: come here boy
I show you how to do this right
You think you know about sex
But you don't know shit
I'm gonna fuck you all night

She took me back to her crib, cold, dark and scary
Connected to a cemetery
A thousand candles lit
I couldn't fuckin' breathe
And then she pushed up against me

And said: come here, boy
I show you how to do this right
You think you know about sex
But you don't know shit
I'm gonna fuck you all night

Sex black voodoo
Sex black voodoo
Sex black voodoo
Sex black voodoo
Sex black voodoo
Sex black voodoo
Sex black voodoo
Sex
No, no, no
Please God help me!

She pushed me back in the bed
Her sheets with blood red
Then she chanted some voodoo shit
She climbed on top of me
And then she started to sweat
Her body was soaking wet

She said: come here boy I show you how to do this right
You think you know about sex
But you don't know shit
I'm gonna fuck you all night

Ey yo, hold on! Ey, whoa whoa whoa, what the fuck is...
Is that a knife? That's a knife?
What is that?
Is that shit real blood?
Is that real blood?
Yo yo, hold on, bitch you're crazy
Black voodoo sex

Body Count - Body Count

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...

SHIT AIN'T LIKE THAT! IT'S REAL FUCKED UP!

Goddamn what a brother gotta do

to get a message through

to the red, white and blue?

What I gotta die

before you realize

I was a brother 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, motherfucker

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 motherfuckers

to South Central.

Ha ha.

Yeah

Fuck that.

I hear it every night,

another gunfight,

the tension mounts,

on with the Body Count.

Last weekend thirty-seven kids killed in gang warfare,

in my backyard.

No!

No!

No!

Yo, Ernie C., take these motherfuckers home.

Yeah.

Yeah, we in the house, Body Count fools, 1991 motherfuckers.

I hear it every night,

another gunfight,

the tension mounts,

on with the Body Count.

Goddamn what a brother 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 politicians.

Tell us what to do... Fuck you!

Tell us what to do... Fuck you!

The tension mounts...

Body Count - Bloodlust

Since the beginning of time, humans have killed each other because they disagree

The human is the only animal that actually kills for sport

The ability to kill is as innate as our ability to love

When someone hurts me I want revenge, I want them in pain, I want them dead

I've got a sickness, bloodlust

I've got a sickness, bloodlust

I'm a carnivore, I can eat meat raw

I destroy almost everything I touch

I got a quick fuse, trip and I murder you

And forget you, more bullets the better

I can't explain it though, it makes me feel good

Zombie apocalypse, I live for the gore

Give me suicide, serial massacre

Execution yo, I always want more

I love the punishment, I love to dish it out

I want blood, motherfuck a submission

It's deep inside of me, violent tendencies

Like a scalpel when it makes its incision

I've got a sickness, bloodlust

I've got a sickness, bloodlust

I've got a love (It's a lust for blood)

I've got a love (It's a lust for blood)

I've got a love (It's a lust for blood)

Sometimes I wonder am I somehow aroused by this shit

Then I wonder why certain people are pleased by others' pain

I've always had this, this ain't nothing new

This fucking sickness, probably the same as you

I love brutality, it makes my pulse rot

I mean fatality, bodies in dark skies

It's in my DNA, I don't care what you think

It's running through my veins, animal instinct

Make me mad, I want you to die

Different politics, millions of homicides

I get my rocks off letting these Glocks off

Cross me wrong, get your ass crossed up

I'm the human species, the most violent on Earth

I killed my own planet, I'm so sick that it hurts

I've got a sickness, bloodlust

I've got a sickness, bloodlust

I've got a sickness, bloodlust

I've got a sickness, bloodlust

Body Count - Ace Of Spades

If you like to gamble, I tell you I'm your man

You win some, you lose some, it's all the same to me

The pleasure is to play, makes no difference what you say

I don't share your greed, the only card I need

is the ace of spades, the ace of spades

Playing for the high one, dancing with the devil

Going with the flow, it's all a game to me

Seven or Eleven, snake eyes watching you

Double up or quit, double stake or split

The ace of spades, the ace of spades

You know I'm born to lose, and gambling's for fools

But that's the way I like it baby, I don't wanna live forever

And don't forget the joker

Pushing up the ante, I know you got to see me

Read 'em and weep, the dead man's hand again

I see it in your eyes, take one look and die

The only thing you see, i know it's gonna be

The ace of spades, the ace of spades

(Motörhead)

Body Count - 6 In Tha Morning

6 in tha morning, police at my door

Fresh Adidas squeak across the bathroom floor

Out my back window I make my escape

Didn't even get a chance to grab my old school tape

Mad with no music, but happy cause free

And the streets to a player is the place to be

Got a knot in my pocket, weighing at least a grand

Gold on my neck, my pistols close at hand

I'm a self-made monster of the city streets

Remotely controlled by hard hip-hop beats

But just living in the city is a serious task

Didn't know what the pigs wanted, didn't have time to ask

Word

Seen my homeboys cooling way, way out

Told 'em 'bout my morning cold bugged 'em out

Shot a little dice till my knees got sore

Kicked around some stories 'bout the night before

Posse to the corner where the fly girls chill

Threw action at some freaks until one bitch got ill

She started acting silly, simply would not quit

Called us all punk pussies, said we all weren't shit

As we walked over to her, ho continued to speak

So we beat the bitch down in the goddamn street

Just living in the city is a serious task

Bitch didn't know what hit her, didn't have time to ask

Word

Continued clocking freaks with immense posterior

Rolling in a Blazer with a Louis interior

Solid gold, the ride was raw

Bust a left turn was on Crenshaw

Sean-e-Sean was the driver, known to give freaks hell

Had a beeper goin' off like a high school bell

Looked in the mirror, what did we see?

Fucking blue light: L.A.P.D.

Pigs searched our car, their day was made

Found an Uzi, .44 and a hand grenade

Threw me in the county high-power block

No freaks to see, no beats to rock

Didn't want trouble but the shit must fly

Squabbled this sucker, shanked 'em in the eye

Just living in the county is a serious task

Nigga didn't know what hit him, didn't have time to ask

Word

Back on the streets after five and a deuce

Seven years later, but still had the juice

My homeboy Hen Gee put me up the track

Told me E's rolling Villain, BJ's got the sack

Bruce is a giant - Nat C's clocking dough

Be-Bop's a pimp, my old freak's a ho

The batter rams rolling, rocks are the thing

Life has no meaning and money is king

Then he looked at me slowly and Hen had to grin

He said, "Man, you out early, we thought you got ten"

Opened his safe, kicked me down with long cash

Knew I would get busy, he didn't waste time to ask

I bought a Benz with the money, the rest went on clothes

Went to the strip, started pimping the hoes

My hair had grew long on my seven year stay

When I got it done, on my shoulders it lay

Hard from the joint, but fly to my heart

I didn't want trouble, but the shit had to start

Out with my crew, some punks got loud

Shotgun blasts echoed through the crowd

Six punks hit, two punks died

All causalities was applied to their side

Human lives has to pass just for talking much trash

We didn't know who they were, no one had the time to ask

Word

Body Count - Bum-Rush

Can't stop the bum-rush
A million strong and we all bust
We didn't fall prey to your bullshit lies
Propaganda of twisted minds
We figured out how it's all set up
The object, keep us all split up
Keep us fighting amongst ourselves
While you accumulate all the wealth
White on black, black on white
Muslim hatred it's all hype
Spread the terror, fear of war
Billions spent on a fuckin' wall
It's all twisted, the game is bent
Still no clean water in Flint
But we ain't asleep no more, we're woke
Hear us comin', see the smoke

You can't stop the bum-rush!
You can't stop the bum-rush!
You can't stop the bum-rush!

Feel the power as we come
As we all move as one
If the street gangs could unite
Cops gonna get real polite
Politics, lies
To conquer you must survive
But we ain't asleep no more, we're woke
Hear us comin', see the smoke

You can't stop the bum-rush!
You can't stop the bum-rush!
You can't stop the bum-rush!

Body Count!
Body Count!
Body Count!
Body Count!

I'm not your enemy, you're not mine
Those who don't listen are blind
All together unstoppable
Some may say impossible
I believe, see the crowd
Feel the power, hear the sound
We ain't asleep no more, we're woke
Hear us comin', see the smoke

You can't stop the bum-rush!
You can't stop the bum-rush!
You can't stop the bum-rush!
You can't stop the bum-rush!

You can't stop the bum-rush!
You can't stop the bum-rush!
You can't stop the bum-rush!

Body Count!
Body Count!
Body Count!
Body Count!

You can't stop the bum-rush!

Body Count - Thee Critical Beatdown

Done talkin' shit to your bitch-ass
Fuck all this back and forth
Pussy ass shit

You talk a lot of shit
Now it's time to back it up
Time to meet face to face
Text that Internet tough
You name the place I'm there
Don't even fuckin' care
I'll come to your fuckin' hood
And beat your ass good
No weapons
Since you're such a bad man
Bare knuckles in the street
Bang it out hand to hand
You can bring your whole crew
I'll roll with mine too
Full block gang fight
Hard body old school

I'm done with the bullshit
I ain't fuckin' 'round no more
And if you don't show up
I'm knockin' on your front door
I'm done with the bullshit
I ain't fuckin' 'round no more
And if you don't show up
I'm knockin' on your front door

It is time for thee critical beat down
It is time for thee critical beat down

I got your pussy
Text still talkin' mad shit
But you don't wanna meet
You're such a little bitch
But I'm past that point
I'm about to hunt you down
Pop up at your fuckin' job
And beat your head to the ground
Break your motha fuckin' back
Maybe break it all too
Put you in a wheelchair
Since I'm such a joke to you
Pray to God, fuckboy
I never catch you in the street
Bail out my fuckin' car
And stomp you through the concrete

I'm done with the bullshit
I ain't fuckin' 'round no more
And if you don't show up
I'm knockin' on your front door
I'm done with the bullshit
I ain't fuckin' 'round no more
And if you don't show up
I'm knockin' on your front door

It is time for thee critical beat down
It is time for thee critical beat down

What's up motha fucka
Fuck you
Oh, so your bitch-ass showed up
Nigga, I ain't scared of you
Yeah motha
What's up nigga
What's happenin'
Fuck off nigga
What's happenin' motha fucka
Let's go

I'm done with the bullshit
I ain't fuckin' 'round no more
And if you don't show up
I'm knockin' on your front door
I'm done with the bullshit
I ain't fuckin' 'round no more
And if you don't show up
I'm knockin' on your front door

Body Count - No Lives Matter

It's unfortunate that we even have to say 'Black Lives Matter', I mean, if you go through history nobody ever gave a fuck. I mean, you can kill black people in the street, nobody goes to jail, nobody goes to prison. But when I say 'Black Lives Matter' and you say 'All Lives Matter', that's like if I was to say 'Gay Lives Matter' and you say 'All Lives Matter'. If I said, 'Women's Lives Matter' and you say 'All Lives Matter', you're diluting what I'm saying. You're diluting the issue. The issue isn't about everybody. It's about black lives, at the moment

But the truth of the matter is... they don't really give a fuck about anybody, if you break this shit all the way down to the low fucking dirty-ass truth

We say that 'Black Lives Matter'
Well truthfully they really never have
No one ever really gave a fuck
Just read your bullshit history books
But honestly it ain't just black
It's yellow, it's brown, it's red
It's anyone who ain't got cash
Poor whites that they call trash

They can't fuck with us
Once they realise we're all on the same side
They can't split us up
And let them prosper off the divide
They can't fuck with us
Once they realise we're all on the same side
They can't split us up
And let them prosper off the divide

Don't fall for the bait and switch
Racism is real, but not it
They fuck whoever can't fight back
But now we gotta change all that
The people have had enough
Right now, it's them against us
This shit is ugly to the core
When it comes to the poor
No lives matter

America's always been
A place that judge my skin
And racism is real as fuck
Ain't no way to play that off
And in the eyes of the law
Black skin has always stood for poor
This is basic shit
They know who they fucking with

They can't fuck with us
Once they realise we're all on the same side
They can't split us up
And let them prosper off the divide
They can't fuck with us
Once they realise we're all on the same side
They can't split us up
And let them prosper off the divide

Don't fall for the bait and switch
Racism is real, but not it
They fuck whoever can't fight back
But now we gotta change all that
The people have had enough
Right now, it's them against us
This shit is ugly to the core
When it comes to the poor
No lives matter

You never see them pulling rich people out of their cars in their neighbourhoods, because they know they got lawyers. They know they'll sue their ass. They can tell who to fuck with. Unfortunately, black or brown skin has always meant poor. They're profiling you kid. They know you can't fight back. But we about to

[News Reports:]
Investigators say they are reviewing body camera and dashcam video of Tuesday's shooting. Police say that Keith Lamont Scott did have a gun in his hand when an officer shot him. But a new picture of the scene shows something at Scott's feet. A source tells our Charlotte affiliate it may be a gun, but people in the neighbourhood say the father of four was holding a book instead

Officer Vinson was in plain clothes when the shooting happened. He was not wearing a body worn camera. But we are told that three other officers wore theirs. The department is under increasing pressure to release police videos from the shooting. But the police chief says he will not do that right now because of the investigation

(Listen to me. This shit is deeper than racism)

Don't fall for the bait and switch
Racism is real, but not it
They fuck whoever can't fight back
But now we gotta change all that
The people have had enough
Right now, it's them against us
This shit is ugly to the core
When it comes to the poor
No lives matter

This shit is ugly to the core
When it comes to the poor
No lives matter

This shit is ugly to the core
When it comes to the poor
No lives matter

Body Count - Black Hoodie

All these people out here tripping off police brutality like this shit is something new
Give me a fucking break
I've been talking about this shit for over 20 years
And now you can kill a motherfucker just because of how he's dressed
Are you fucking serious?

Got on my black hoodie, its hood up on my head
I didn't have a gun so why am I dead
You didn't have to shoot me and that's a known fact
And now I'm laying face down with bullets in my back
Got on my black hoodie, its hood up on my head
I didn't have a gun so why am I dead
You didn't have to shoot me and that's a known fact
And now I'm laying face down with bullets in my back

This is how it happened
Out late night just chilling with my clique
No one had a gun, everyone's legit
One of my boys is drunk, I'm talking toe'd up
He can barely talk off that Cognac
Then the cops roll up, I don't know why he ran
Maybe traffic warrants, I still don't understand
That motherfucker's crazy, the homies laughed
He might've got a block and then we heard shots
The fucking cop shot him, yo a nigga's dead
They hit him twice in the back, once in the head and leg
We all went crazy on that pig shit
They aimed at us, they meant business
They didn't have to shoot him, he didn't have a gun
What they're gonna say is "Why the fuck he run?"
We can't be seeing this, I'm like "What the fuck?"
My man's laying dead, they still cuffing him up

You motherfuckers, call the fucking paramedics man
My man's not breathing, man
What the fuck's the matter with you, man?
Aw shit

Got on my black hoodie, its hood up on my head
I didn't have a gun so why am I dead
You didn't have to shoot me and that's a known fact
And now I'm laying face down with bullets in my back
Got on my black hoodie, its hood up on my head
I didn't have a gun so why am I dead
You didn't have to shoot me and that's a known fact
And now I'm laying face down with bullets in my back

Woop woop, that's the sound of the police
[*shot*] [*shot*] That's the sound on the streets
Woop woop, that's the sound of the police
[*shot*] [*shot*] That's the sound on the streets
Woop woop, that's the sound of the police
[*shot*] [*shot*] That's the sound on the streets

[*shot*]

Now it's our day in court, we gotta have hope
Maybe some justice, someone got it on video
They say do something, he used to gang bang
They made my homie look like fucking shit on everything
Had on a black hoodie, that's all it took
The DA portrayed him as a dirty fucking street crook
They let the cops off, nobody fucking marched
Nobody had a clue, this never made the news

Woop woop, that's the sound of the police
[*shot*] [*shot*] That's the sound on the streets
Woop woop, that's the sound of the police
[*shot*] [*shot*] That's the sound on the streets
Woop woop, that's the sound of the police
[*shot*] [*shot*] That's the sound on the streets
Woop woop, that's the sound of the police
[*shot*] [*shot*] That's the sound on the streets

Got on my black hoodie
Got on my black hoodie
Got on my black hoodie

Body Count feat. Jamey Jasta - Pop Bubble

I'm fed up with this shit, man
I'm gonna say it,
ain't nobody gonna say it, I'm gonna say it
Motherfuck this shit, you're all whores
music ain't sayin' shit no more
Read my lips, read my lips you ain't talkin' bout shit

America's losing they cribs
Why you braggin' bout the shit you did?
All the shit that you buy, most of it lies
Yeah I know and you know I know
The government's tapping the net
Why you rappin' bout your car and check?
I miss P.E., I miss group's like Rage
this pop shit's making me physically sick
Obama did 8 years 'cuz
Why you singing bout bottles and clubs?
This shit don't make no sense
Most of your fans can't pay their rent

You've been sold a fantasy
You're livin' in a bubble full of bullshit
A pop bubble full of bullshit
You've been sold a fantasy
You're livin' in a bubble full of bullshit
A pop bubble full of bullshit
You're livin' in a bubble

You've been sold a fantasy
Little do you know the price we pay
The sick are regarded children starve
Our veterans come out to the real war
They're penitent on borrowed time
The beggars steal, the media lies
Now you've been bought and fuckin' sold
Feel steel like a temple, body count

Music is coming a long way
Guys have gone from fight the power,
to what does Kim Kardashian have on today
The fuck's the matter with you?
This pop shit's driving me fucking crazy
And I'm not talking about the people that started out being popstars,
I'm talking about so-called 'hardcore' motherfuckers
that'll do anything to get on the radio
Eat a dick.

Body Count, motherfucker

I can't fake it
This shit's whack
I say this to your face, this ain't behind your back
You corny motherfuckers, can't look me in the eyes
Cause most of you fake and you're living a lie

You're living in a lie

The cops are still twisted,
the laws are still fucked
The rich are still greedy,
government's still corrupt

You're living in a fucking lie

The news is all gossip
People have no hope
So what, you're making cash?
Your soul is still broke

You've been sold a fantasy
You're living in a bubble full of bullshit
A pop bubble full of bullshit
You've been sold a fantasy
You're living in a bubble full of bullshit
A pop bubble full of bullshit
You're living in a bubble

Bitch motherfuckers, don't want no fight
Ya mothefuckin' pants too tight
You'll be in for a few,
and then you're through,
cause pop ain't got no love
So what?
Your shit's in the club
You want me to say some names?
I'm too seasoned in this game,
that only give em pop fame
Fuck bloggers, fuck bullshit hype,
Ice is the only one tonight
Check my history, ain't shit changed
Still OG, and I'm still insane

Turn that fucking radio off.

Body Count - This Is Why We Ride

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Body Count - Cop Killer

"This next record is dedicated to some personal friends of mine, the LAPD. For every cop that has ever taken advantage of somebody, beat 'em down or hurt 'em, because they got long hair, listen to the wrong kinda music, wrong color, whatever they thought was the reason to do it. For every one of those fuckin' police, I'd like to take a pig out here in this parkin' lot and shoot 'em in their mothafuckin' face."

Cop killer!
Yeah!
I got my black shirt on
I got my black gloves on
I got my ski mask on
This shit's been too long
I got my twelve gauge sawed off
I got my headlights turned off
I'm 'bout to bust some shots off
I'm 'bout to dust some cops off

I'm a...

Cop killer, better you than me
Cop killer, fuck police brutality!
Cop killer, I know your family's grievin' ... Fuck 'em!
Cop killer, but tonight we get even

I got my brain on hype
Tonight'll be your night
I got this long-assed knife
And your neck looks just right
My adrenaline's pumpin'
I got my stereo bumpin'
I'm 'bout to kill me somethin'
A pig stopped me for nuthin'!

Cop killer, better you than me
Cop killer, fuck police brutality!
Cop killer, I know your family's grievin' ... Fuck 'em!
Cop killer, but tonight we get even

Die, die, die, pig, die!
Fuck the police!

Cop killer, better you than me
Cop killer, fuck police brutality!
Cop killer, I know your family's grievin' ... Fuck 'em!
Cop killer, but tonight we get even

Fuck the police!
Fuck the police, for Daryl Gates
Fuck the police, for Rodney King
Fuck the police, for my dead homies
Fuck the police, for your freedom
Fuck the police, don't be a pussy
Fuck the police, have some mothafuckin' courage
Fuck the police, sing along!
Cop killer! I'm a muthafuckin'
Cop killer!

Body Count - Talk Shit, Get Shot

Talk shit, GET SHOT!
Act hard Motherfucker, GET SHOT!
Pop off, GET SHOT!
Run up motherfucker, GET SHOT!
Niggas ain't blew up the spot in a while
Motherfucker ain't got shot in a while
Niggas ain't blew up the spot in a while
Motherfucker ain't got shot!

Prepare for impact - masks and black gats
You was speakin', now you're leakin' with your bitch ass
I'm a say this once - I don't play with the AK
You trip I'll hit ya - My clips'll flip ya
I'm not your average - the reaper with the sweeper
conflict turns to glock kicks and bullet hits
Motherfucker Talk shit, Get your wig split
I don't give a fuck about you and your bitch clique!

Talk shit, GET SHOT!
Act hard Motherfucker, GET SHOT!
Pop off, GET SHOT!
Run up motherfucker, GET SHOT!
Niggas ain't blew up the spot in a while
Motherfucker ain't got shot in a while
Niggas ain't blew up the spot in a while
Motherfucker ain't got shot!

Don't push motherfucker, I push back
Fuck with me and catch a 223
We in the age of the gauge
Double "lots" will make the talk stop
Black ops - I fuckin' live for the head shot
Act hard motherfuck - stick your chest out
Break north bitch - that would be your best route
Don't test me - I'm a psycho with the rifle
Beast with the piece - bully with the fully

Anyone can get it.
Anyone can get it
Anyone can get it
ANYONE CAN GET IT!!!

For some reason, you motherfuckers think this is a game.
You think you can say anything you want and nothing will ever happen to you
You think we live in a new age, But let me tell ya
It can happen real easy

Don't make me bring the gravity nigga...
You can get hit with the 5th
Twisted with the Biscuit
Blasted with the Ratchet
Jacked with the Mack
Bodied with the Shotty
Dumed with the Pump
Rocked with the Glock
Sprayed with the K
Domed with the Chrome
Downed with the Pound
Tapped with the Strap
Wacked with the Gat
Dusted with the Musket
Tagged with the Mag
Wet with the Intratec
Bled with the Led!!!

Talk shit, GET SHOT!
Act hard Motherfucker, GET SHOT!
Pop off, GET SHOT!
Run up, GET SHOT!

Talk shit, GET SHOT!

Body Count - 99 Problems BC

If you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems and the bitch ain’t one
Hit me!
99 problems and the bitch ain’t one!
If you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems and the bitch ain’t one
Hit me!
99 problems and the bitch ain’t one!

I got a hoe from the East, I got a hoe from the West
Got a hoe who likes to jerk it off and rob it in a chest

I got a bitch from the North, I got a bitch from the South
I got a bitch who like to suck it long and hold it in her mouth
I got a bitch with air, a bitch with none
A bitch with a knife, a bitch with a gun
A bitch with an ass big as a TV set
And there’s a bitch over there,
Hey, the one I’m gonna get or maybe not!
She might not like me, though
No sweat to a vet, I rock her sister, though.
Or I rock the whole damn heard

Fuck them all and leave them on a curb.
I got a bitch with a mink, who likes a fat gold ling,
Who likes to fuck me with an ass upon the kitchen sink.
I got a bitch with tits, a bitch with ass
A bitch with none, but hey, I give her a pass, and I love them all!
I love them crazily, and they love me back
That’s why they stay with me!
If you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems and the bitch ain’t one
Hit me!
99 problems and the bitch ain’t one!
If you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems and the bitch ain’t one
Hit me!
99 problems and the bitch ain’t one!

I got a bitch, this old, a bitch, this new
A bitch who loves velvet and the colours blue.
I got a bitch this fat, a bitch this built
A bitch who all the titties give powder milk.
I got a bitch who’s funny, a bitch who ain’t
A bitch who can sing, a bitch who can’t
I got a bitch who loves fucking on airplane
I even got a bitch who have soul train.
I got a bitch who owns rock top bands, long ends!
I got a bitch who’s broke as a plum
But she’s the most fun!
I got a bitch who plays piano, a bitch who don’t
A bitch who dances naked, a bitch who won’t
A bitch who’s short, a bitch who’s tall
A bitch who burns my phone and probably calls
And I love them all, I love them crazily
And they love me back, that’s why they stay with me
So if you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems and the bitch ain’t one
Hit me!
99 problems and the bitch ain’t one!
If you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems and the bitch ain’t one
Hit me!
99 problems and the bitch ain’t one!

I got a bitch who loves the G
She’ll fuck you right after she fucks me.
I got a bitch who loves boats
I got a bitch who loves handcuffs and ropes.
I got a bitch that’s fast, a bitch who’s slow
A bitch that’s a virgin, and a bitch that’s a hoe.
A bitch that lies, a bitch that’s true,
A bitch who’s a man, because your bitch is too!
I got a bitch this cool, a bitch this hot,
A bitch who loves rap, a bitch who loves rock
A bitch who’s lost, and one who knows where is at
She gets up on me and purrs like a cat.
I got a bitch that runs, a bitch that walks
A bitch she yells, a bitch she talks,
A bitch this dirty, a bitch this mean
A super fan bitch that I not to.. me
Then I love them all, I love them crazily
And they love me back, that’s why they stay with me
So if you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems and the bitch ain’t one
Hit me!
99 problems and the bitch ain’t one!
If you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems and the bitch ain’t one
Hit me!
99 problems and the bitch ain’t one!

Body Count - KKK Bitch

Aw yeah, what's up out there? BC's in the house. Right
about now, I wanna tell you a little love story, you know
what I'm sayin', this is a Body Count love story check out
the lyrics, you know, I'm a tell you 'bout what happened
when we went down South last year on tour.

Out on tour yo, I been all around the world
went to Georgia, met this fine-assed white girl,
blonde hair, blue eyes, big tits and thighs,
the kinda girl that would knock out most guys.
She got wild in the backstage bathroom,
sucked my dick like a motherfucking' vacuum,
said "I love you, but my daddy don't play,
he's the fuckin' grand wizard of the KKK."

I I I love my KKK bitch, love it when she sucks me though,
I I I love my KKK bitch, love it when she fucks me though,
I I I love my KKK bitch, she loves it when I treat her bad,
I I I love my KKK bitch, mother fuck her dear old dad.

You know what I'm sayin'. So we was down South fallin' in
love, you know, D-Roc had this Nazi girl, my man
Mooseman had a skinhead, I fell in love with Tipper Gore's
two twelve year old nieces. It was wild, you know what I'm
sayin', it got even worse, you know.

So one night they took us to a meetin'
white sheets, white hoods, no room for seatin'
there was Skinheads, Nazi's and crazies,
talkin' 'bout black people pushin' up daisies.
They hated Blacks, Jews, Puerto Ricans,
Mexicans, Chinese, even the Indians.
We had our hoods on,
we were slick
she pushed her butt up hard against my dick.
Then her daddy jumped on the stage
talkin' 'bout killin' in a goddamn rage.
I got mad, my dick got hard
entered in her ass
she said, "Oh my God!"

I I I love my KKK bitch, love it when she fucks me though,
I I I love my KKK bitch, love it when she sucks me though,
I I I love my KKK bitch, she loves it when I treat her bad,
I I I love my KKK bitch, mother fuck her dear old dad.

So what we really tryin' to say is Body Count loves
everybody. We love Mexican girls, Black girls, Oriental girls,
it really don't matter. If you from Mars, and you got a pussy,
we will fuck you. You know, that's all we're sayin', word.

So every year when Body Count comes around
we throw an orgy in every little Southern town.
KKK's, Skinheads, and Nazi
girls break their necks
to get to the party.
It ain't like their men can't nut,
their dick's too little
and they just can't fuck.
So we get buck wild with the white freaks
we show them how to really work the white sheets.
I know her daddy'll really be after me,
when his grandson's named little Ice-T.

I I I love my KKK bitch, love it when she fucks me though,
I I I love my KKK bitch, love it when she sucks me though,
I I I love my KKK bitch, she loves it when I treat her bad,
I I I love my KKK bitch, mother fuck her dear old dad.

Body Count - C Note

...

Body Count - Body Count's in the House

Body Count, Body Count.
Body Count, Body Count. (Yeah Mutha Fuckaaaaaa!)
Body Count, Body Count.
Body Count, Body Count.
Body Count, Body Count.
Body Count, Body Count, nigga!

Body Count, Body Count.
Body Count, Body Count.

Body Count.
Body Count.

Awwwwwwwwww shit
Body Count's in the house, Body Count.
Body Count's in the house, Body Count.

On the bass I got my main muthafucka called Mooseman.
Layin' the rhythm tracks I got the one and only infamous D-Roc.
On the drums I got the one and only Beatmaster V muthafucka.
On lead guitars I got my nigga Ernie C.
And I'm Ice Mother Fuckin' T, bitch.

Come on come on, make some noise.
Yeah, goddamn it.
Come on, come on, come on, come on.
Come on.

Body Count's in the house, Body Count.
Body Count's in the house, Body Count.

Uh!
Yeah!
Uh!

Come on!
Yeah!
Make some noise!

BC, BC, BC.

Body Count, muthafuckas!
Body Count's in the house, Body Count.