Luyện nghe bài hát Body Count

{Ice-T after your tremendous success on past albums
Some have said you've sold out of use of
Rock n' in your music, how do you reply to that?
You see a lot of people don't that you know
Rock n' is truly black music, it was created by
Chuck Berry, Little Richard, an' black people that
Who started it off back in the day you and as far as
I'm concerned, music is music, I don't look at it is
R n' B or that kind of stuff, I just look at it as you know
And anybody who said that I sold out, can basically suck my
Dick, 'cause I don't give a fuck about that shit, you know
But I do what I like and I to like Rock n' Roll an' I feel
Sorry for anybody who only listens one of music, now right now
I got my own band, it's got to jump off, it's real black hardcore
Band called Bodycount, and a, on of the records I'm like layin' Some vocals on it and a, I got a tape of it right here, yo, check it out}

{You know sometimes I sit at home, you
An' I watch T.V. and I what it would be like
To live place like you know
Piccass, B Show, Ozzy and
You know what cops coming got
Cat out of the
All your friends of old age, but you see
I live in South Los Angeles
And

Shit like that
It's fucked up

God damn, what a gotta do
To get a through
To the red, white and

What, I gotta
you realize
I was a brother with open

The insane
While you drink
And I'm livin' in black

You try to ban the A.K.
I got ten of 'em
With a case of grenades

Tell us to do
you
Tell us to do
you
Tell us to do
you
Tell us to do
you

You know to do
If a kid got killed on the way to
Or a cop shot kid in the back yard
would hit the fan motherfuckin'
It would hit real

I hear it every night, gun fight
The tension mounts on with the count

Yo Big Master
Take these motherfuckers to South
Yea, that

I hear it every night, gun fight
The tension mounts on with the count

weekend
Thirty-seven killed in a gang warfare
In my

No, no, no

{Yo Aunty Sei, take motherfuckers home}

Yea

Yea we in a body count
Four ninety one motherfucker

I it every night, another gun fight
The tension mounts on with the body

God damn what a brother do
To get a message
To the red, and you?

What, I gotta
you realize
I was a nigga open eyes

The insane
you drink champagne
And I'm in black rain

Don't you the guns?
You stupid, dumb, dick
Bum

us what to do
you
Tell us to do
you
The tension