When they kick out your front door   How you gonna come?   With your hands on your head   Or on the trigger of your gun?      When the law break in   How you gonna go?   Shot down on the pavement   Or waiting in death row?      You can crush us   You can bruise us   But you'll have to answer to   Oh, the guns of Brooklyn      The money feels good   And your life, you like it well   But surely your time will come   As in heaven, as in hell      You see, he feels like Ivan   Born under the Brixton sun   His game is called survivin'   At the end of the harder they come      You know it means no mercy   They caught him with a gun   No need for the Black Maria   Goodbye to the Brooklyn sun      You can crush us   You can bruise us   But you'll have to answer to   Oh, the guns of Brooklyn      When they kick out your front door   How you gonna come?   With your hands on your head   Or on the trigger of your gun?      You can crush us   You can bruise us   Or even shoot us but   Oh, the guns of Brooklyn      You can crush us   You can bruise us   But you'll have to answer to   Oh, the guns of Brooklyn   Oh, the guns of Brooklyn   Oh, the guns of Brooklyn   Oh, the guns of Brooklyn   Oh, the guns of Brooklyn   Oh, the guns of Brooklyn