Last days,
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last days.
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As I stare off the stage and try to
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understand why you feel that I am
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someone you can id with, how ?
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When you and I come from two totally
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polar opposite lifestyles.
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Under normal circumstances I would be
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waking you and your rich parents up at
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gunpoint.
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Demanding the combination to the wall
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safe.
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While your little sister screams suffering
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from pistol-whipped pain.
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Or looking back at you in a courtroom
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filled with absolutely none of my peers.
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Why are you here ? Is this some
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voyeuristic bullshit ?
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See black man sing ?
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Or maybe, just maybe, you've been sub-
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jected to so many audio drive by's and
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gang shootings that you yourself have
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become numb to the pain like me.
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And you - check this out - have become
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insane from overdoses of reality.
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Well stomach this, at the rate we're
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going right now white boy, yeah you, you
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and I will die holding each other's
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throats.
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That's real, the world's at war, we're at
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war.
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Check yourself, don't be me check your
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goddamn self.
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It's goin down 1997, see the light, red
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lasers rip through my neighborhood at
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night, time is short.
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Homocide is the number one sport.
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Last days,
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last days,
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these are the last days.
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So now that all the reality's soaked, I and
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you start to reanalyze every word I ever
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said, am I a racist ?
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Or am I just someone who tells it how the
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fuck it is ?
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Well the truth of the thing is I was raised
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on crime.
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Walking through an environment so filled
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with so much hate,
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honesty I do not feel that you are able to
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comprehend the magnitude of the evil.
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But trip this, there were no white faces
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there.
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Just blck on black genocide.
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The only white men there were the cops
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that showed up late in the fourth to out-
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line the teenaged bodies in chalk.
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So who do I hate ? Do I hate you ? Do I
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hate myself ?
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Or possibly am I intelligent enough to only
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hold the conditions of the ghetto itself to
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blame ? - Not!
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Who creates the conditions ?
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Who stops affirmative action and wel-
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fare ?
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Who loves the 3 strikes law ?
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Didn't see 'em at the Million Man March,
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Or the three hundred and fifty-thousand
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man march, let your daddy tell it.
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There's a lotta lies out there, what side
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ya on ?
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Armageddon is near,
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I am the fourth rider of the apocalypse,
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recogize game.
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Last days,
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these are the last days.
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Last days,
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these are the last days.
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Last days,
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these are the last days.
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Last days.
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[But maybe I'm all wrong, maybe everything
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is ok. Maybe we're all just gonna get
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along. Maybe I'm trippin, maybe life is
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perfect - yeah right]
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CHORUS
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I hate you, you hate me, and what does
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that equal ?
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It equals nothing, and that's exactly what
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we're gonna have,
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nothing, i we don't make a change soon,
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and who am I to tell you anything ?
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I ain't nobody but a brother from South
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Central,
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who's had the opportunity to go around
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the world,
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and I found out that we're all not really
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that different.
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Racism is the number one enemyof
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earth.
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There's only one race, the human race,
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and if we don't get it together soon, this
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song is true.
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We are all living in the last days.
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-----------------
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Last Days
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Body Count |