When they kick out your front door How you gonna come? With your hands on your head Or on the trigger of your gun?
When the law break in How you gonna go? Shot down on the pavement Or waiting in death row?
You can crush us You can bruise us But you'll have to answer to Oh, the guns of Brooklyn
The money feels good And your life, you like it well But surely your time will come As in heaven, as in hell
You see, he feels like Ivan Born under the Brixton sun His game is called survivin' At the end of the harder they come
You know it means no mercy They caught him with a gun No need for the Black Maria Goodbye to the Brooklyn sun
You can crush us You can bruise us But you'll have to answer to Oh, the guns of Brooklyn
When they kick out your front door How you gonna come? With your hands on your head Or on the trigger of your gun?
You can crush us You can bruise us Or even shoot us but Oh, the guns of Brooklyn
You can crush us You can bruise us But you'll have to answer to Oh, the guns of Brooklyn Oh, the guns of Brooklyn Oh, the guns of Brooklyn Oh, the guns of Brooklyn Oh, the guns of Brooklyn Oh, the guns of Brooklyn
