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    Peace. haha don’t make me laugh!
    All I hear is muthafucker’s talkin’ sucotash
    Livin’ large, tellin’ me to get out the gang
    I’m a nigga, gotta live by the trigger
    How the fuck 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 fuck 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 ’fuck 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 fuck 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 ass in it for a minute
    Covered with sweat I had the layback
    Mad as fuck, 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 mutahfuckers
    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, 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 fuck 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 ass off, they can not hide
    Yet cube, they can’t fuck with the darkside!

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