Tales from the darkside

Tales from the darkside Lyrics

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
Cuz I'm the one with the trunk of funk
And 'f**k tha Police' in the tape deck
You should listen to me cuz there's more to see
Call my neighborhood a ghetto cuz it houses minorities
The other color don't know you can run but not hide
These are tales from the darkside...

Verse Two:

You wanna free Africa, I stare at yuh
Cuz 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 to the temple
was the sound I put the b**ch down
And ran to the schoolyard bathroom
Looked in the trash can yo it had room
So I ducked my ass 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 sucka'
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 its 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, cuz 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 whats under my waist
[Standin on the verge] of them gettin' brown
thats a fact got a fear on their bozack
Run, run, run, their ass off, they can not hide
Yet Cube, they can't f**k with the darkside!