The Accused - Bullet-ridden Bodies
In 1989 in New York city alone
140 youths under the age of 18
Were gunned down
Gunned down
Bullet ridden bodies
The streets are the new battle fields
Someone's gonna die, the blood never stops flowing
The streets are the new battle fields
Littered with bullet ridden bodies
And families mourning their dead.
14 years ol selling five dollar rocks of crack cocaine
You ripped off the wrong people
Now you've got the sights of the 9mm
Aimed at the back, back of your head.
The first shot fired pierces his skull
As eight more shots are pumped into his body
As he crumples into the new fallen snow.
14 years ol selling five dollar rocks of crack cocaine
You crossed the wrong people
Now you've got the sights of the 9mm
Aimed at the back, back of your head.
The blood, his blood, drips from the snow
Into the slush-filled streets.
A crowd starts to gather
A young girl begins to scream
BOGOTA, COLUMBIA
50 bodies float down a raging river
Hands cut off at the wrist
Headless and bloated from weeks
In the tropical water.
The streets are the new battle fields
Someone's gonna die, the blood never stops flowing
The streets are the new battle fields
An families mourning their dead.
140 youths under the age of 18
Were gunned down
Gunned down
Bullet ridden bodies
The streets are the new battle fields
Someone's gonna die, the blood never stops flowing
The streets are the new battle fields
Littered with bullet ridden bodies
And families mourning their dead.
14 years ol selling five dollar rocks of crack cocaine
You ripped off the wrong people
Now you've got the sights of the 9mm
Aimed at the back, back of your head.
The first shot fired pierces his skull
As eight more shots are pumped into his body
As he crumples into the new fallen snow.
14 years ol selling five dollar rocks of crack cocaine
You crossed the wrong people
Now you've got the sights of the 9mm
Aimed at the back, back of your head.
The blood, his blood, drips from the snow
Into the slush-filled streets.
A crowd starts to gather
A young girl begins to scream
BOGOTA, COLUMBIA
50 bodies float down a raging river
Hands cut off at the wrist
Headless and bloated from weeks
In the tropical water.
The streets are the new battle fields
Someone's gonna die, the blood never stops flowing
The streets are the new battle fields
An families mourning their dead.
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