Verse one: ice cube
Peace. haha don't make me laugh!
All I hear is muthaf**ker's talkin' sucotash
Livin' large, tellin' me to get out the gang
I'm a nigga, gotta live by the trigger
How the f**k do you figure?
That I can say peace and the gunshots won't cease
Every cop killin' goes ignored
They just send another nigga to the morgue
A point scored- they could give a f**k about us
They rather catch us with guns and white powder
If I was old, they'd probably be a friend of me
Since I'm young, they consider me the enemy
They kill ten of me to get the job correct
To serve, protect, and break a niggas neck
'cause I'm the one with the trunk of funk
And 'f**k tha police' in the tape deck
You should listen to me 'cause there's more to see
Call my neighborhood a ghetto 'cause it houses minorities
The other color don't know you can run but not hide
These are tales from the darkside...
You wanna free africa, I stare at yuh
'cause we ain't got it too good in america
I can't f**k with them overseas
My homeboy died over a key of cocaine
It was plain and simple
The 9mm went <pop> to the temple
<pop pop pop> was the sound I put the bitch down
And ran to the schoolyard bathroom
Looked in the trash can yo it had room
So I ducked my a*s in it for a minute
Covered with sweat I had the layback
Mad as f**k, thinkin' about the payback
Tonite the crew gonna have a little fun
I went home and cocked the barrel of my shotgun
It's gettin' critical - I start the five point o
There they go - drive real slow
I yelled out 'ice cube s*cka'
Shot gun hit - and murder mutahf**kers
I told you last album, when I got a sawed off, bodies are hard off
Its a shame, that niggas die young
But to the light side it don't matter none
It'll be a drive by homicide
But to me it's just another tale from the darkside...
Verse three: chuck d
Standing in the middle of war
The middle we flex
When we die, they won't make check
Ebony can't see to the darkside
The term they apply to us is a nigga
Call it what you want, 'cause I'm comin' from the coroner
Same applies with a phd
Who'z black - don't wanna role - sells his soul
Watch his head go rollin'
Who the f**k are they foolin'?
Nobody knows, but I suppose the color of my clothes
Matches the color of the one on my face as they wonder what's under my waist
[standin on the verge] of them gettin' brown
Thats a fact got a fear on their bozack
Run, run, run, their a*s off, they can not hide
Yet cube, they can't f**k with the darkside!