Boogie Down Productions — Bo Bo Bo

Bo, bo, bo, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack Get your street knowledge, every posse know that, come again Bo, bo, bo, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack The only way to deal with racism if you're black Well, seven in the morning I woke up to jog Rushed out the door to inhale the smog As I ran I began to wonder Should I produce or should I tour this summer? Well just that second I heard, "Stay where you are" Before I could stop I was hit by a cop car I laid on the pavement like I was hurt Then a redneck cop jumped out with a smirk He said, "Ah boy, you better watch where you run" As he poked my side with the barrel of his shotgun I said, "Officer man, I ain't do nothin" He said, "What's that word you niggazs use, ya frontin?" "Well ya frontin, 'cause why were you running down the street?" At this time I had stood to my feet and said, "Wait a minute" And that's when he did it, he hit me in the face with his gun I wasn't with it so On the ground was a bottle of Snapple I broke the bottle in his fucking Adam's apple As he fell his partner called for backup, well, I had the shotgun And began to act up with that Bo, bo, bo, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack Get your street knowledge, every posse know that, come again Bo, bo, bo, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack The only way to deal with racism if you're black Well I threw down the gun and began to run I got back in no time and loaded the nine First I took two clips and then I took two more I went out the window 'cause by now they were right at my door I took three shots and then I laid They rushed in shooting so I threw a quick grenade It went boom, like a supernova Badges, arms, legs, heads, cops were all over I jumped out the fire escape down to the street And I started to run you know I couldn't feel my feet I was weak, I said to myself "Holy shit" My shirt had filled with blood I didn't know I got hit but There's no time to stop, no time to explain man I'm in too deep with this everyday ghetto game Black men are judged by their clothes Black women are looked at as hoes So I as one of these uppity niggas Can only rely on the sound of a trigger going Bo, bo, bo, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack Get your street knowledge, every posse know that, come again Bo, bo, bo, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack The only way to deal with racism if you're black Well I staggered down the street to an old bookstore Called 'The tree of life', yo D it ain't there no more But when it was boy I was lucky 'Cause in the basement is where they stuck me When I awoke at the 14th hour Three black women had gave me a quick shower I stayed a while and escaped in a truck Driven by two guys, Rakim and Chuck "What the fuck" I asked as I laid there "How many guys do you drive a day here?" Chuck said, "Many" Rakim said, "Plenty it's an everyday thing When you're willing to sing a song" Bo, bo, bo, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack Get your street knowledge, every posse know that, come again Bo, bo, bo, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack The only way to deal with racism if you're black Bo, bo, bo, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack Get your street knowledge, every posse know that, come again Bo, bo, bo, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack The only way to deal with racism if you're black Peace and love to DJ Scott LaRock he's in there still!