The sound of gunfire comes pounding down the street,
The bpm around 110...
Ya hear it on the tv, it's always on the tube -
The victims always look like you...
The foundation's cracking, even store bought rebels know -
Think of all the places you won't go...
`cause now you see a stranger and you cross the street -
Walk straight ahead and listen for his feet now...there it is again...
Negative thoughts bounce around, like a bad itch in the back of your brain...
It's gettin hard not to say this - there's something we gotta face here...
The little words that slip out: you better think about what you're thinking,
When you pin the blame on people you don't know..
We used to speak of justice, not self preservation -
But sometimes you talk about getting a gun now...there it is again...
Negative thoughts bounce around, like a bad itch in the back of your brain...
It's gettin hard not to ask this: are you becoming a racist?
