Texty:
Body Count Body Count S In The House

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motherfuckers home} Yea Yea we in a house body count Four nineteen ninety one motherfucker I hear it every night, another gun fight The tension mounts on with the body count

and fuck who you are You're fucking with a couple of niggas that's really insane I'm talking loco, crazy as hell, it ain't just a name It's the game

Like Bruce Lee jumpin' on your vest But I can't feel yours through my Superman "S" Yes, I'm Superman'd-out Red Cartier look like Superman's house Inshallah

throbbing real inside And every pulse in my body Belongs to the house where my father died Won't catch his spirit in a candle On or alive in it's guttering

is making me unwell, well I arrive at your house but you've just got up And you are wearing a towel and your eyes look dark I help to dry your body and

about to take who's place? Not Seis Your body'll be laced, and left without a trace The glamour life, the glamour life, yo It's the glamour life, blow