Lyrics:

You know, sometimes, I sit at home, you know, and I watch TV
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 out of 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 living in black rain
Try to ban the AK, 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 your 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, 37 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, motherfucker

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 living in black rain
Don't you hear the guns, you stupid, dumb, dick-sucking, bum politicians?

(Tell us what to do) Fuck you!
(Tell us what to do) Fuck you!
The tension mounts