The sound of gunfire comes pounding down the street, The bpm around 110... Ya hear it on the TV, It's always on the tube - The victims always look like you... The foundation's cracking, even store bought rebels know - Think of all the places you won't go... 'Cause now you see a stranger and you cross the street - Walk straight ahead and listen for his feet now... there it is again... Negative thoughts bounce around, like a bad itch in the back of your brain... It's gettin hard not to say this - there's something we gotta face here... The little words that slip out: you better think about what you're thinking, When you pin the blame on people you don't know. We used to speak of justice, not self preservation - But sometimes you talk about getting a gun now... there it is again... Negative thoughts bounce around, like a bad itch in the back of your brain... It's gettin hard not to ask this: are you becoming a racist?