Testo Born Dead - Body Count
Testo della canzone Born Dead (Body Count), tratta dall'album Born Dead
1994, Body Count still in the house
They did everything they could do to take us out
But like any good monster, that just made us stronger
You see, they don't like us, and they don't like you
The Body Count fans
'Cause they know we stand for three things
Truth, justice
And fuck the American way
That word justice got me fucked up though
20 cops in the street, two go to jail
Thousands of people died in wars overseas and it's justice?
You think they give a fuck about us, you're a fool
Born yellow
Born brown
Born red
Born black
Born dead
Dead
Dead
Dead
Born dead
Born dead, ah-ah-ah
We're born dead
Born Asian
Born Jewish
Born Latino
Born poor
Born dead
Dead
Dead
Dead
Born dead
Born dead, ah-ah-ah
We're born dead
But you don't hear me though
Anything that's gonna confuse us, they'll throw at us
Anything that's gonna confuse us, they'll throw at us
Dead
US military official safe (Iraqi official safe)
US military official safe (Iraqi official safe)
We're an Iraq official now, we'll censor you and monitor you, what you're saying
Catch this (the smart bomb)
Catch this (the smart bomb)
We're an Iraq official now, we'll censor you and monitor you, what you're saying
Anything that's gonna confuse us, they'll throw at us
Live from Baghdad
The Iranians reported hearing planes flying over the Iraqi cities
Live from Baghdad (dead)
Allied air attacks continued, and US forces stepped up bombing (the smart bomb)
Once again, updating the Gulf War
UN say, smoke from the explosions rose into the air at 30 minute intervals
Anything that's gonna confuse us, they'll throw at us (Gulf War III)
Iraqi official safe (US military official safe)
Iraqi official safe (US military official safe)
Ah!
Dead, dead
New York (dead)
Atlanta (dead)
Chicago (dead)
Oakland (dead)
Miami (dead)
Detroit (dead)
Every day I gotta get out my motherfuckin' bed
Put on my motherfuckin' gun down in my motherfuckin' pants
'Cause motherfucker's out here is trippin'
How the fuck is it to get up every morning
Worryin' about if you gonna make it to the next evening?
Do you understand?
Sometimes we take for granted
The little things like food, like freedom
Born in Somalia
Born in South America
Born in South Africa
Born in South Central
Born dead
Dead
Dead
Dead
Born dead
Born dead, ah-ah-ah
We're born dead
Credits
Writer(s): Ernest T. Cunnigan, Lloyd Roberts, Dennis Miles, Tracy Lauren Marrow
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