Bang Bang You're Dead: My Lifeline for the Mad World

To the rude boys

Who pursue the dirty dream.

Beneath the world

Their souls run and greet death,

And their intelligent soul

Wait for another knock at the door.

The pattern of death seems not to matter

To the rude boys

Who proclaim that they are invincible

To living that real life.

Bang bang you're dead,

Another taxi drug dealer dead,

Another Black-American incarcerated

By his own ignorance - perceived by a nation

To be exactly what it is.

Ban bang you're dead,

America knows very well the indifference of

The binding drug war.

Bang bang you're dead,

The true face of America

Lust for the inexplicable pleasure

Swaying towards justice

But denying the considerable threat

Of institutionalized prejudice.