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Album: Body Count (1992)
Artists: Body Count

  1. A Statistic
  2. Body Count
  3. Body Count Anthem
  4. Body Count's In The House
  5. Bowels Of The Devil
  6. Cop Killer
  7. Evil Dick
  8. Kkk Bitch
  9. Momma's Gotta Die Tonight
  10. Now Sports
  11. Oprah
  12. Out In The Parking Lot
  13. Smoked Pork
  14. The Real Problem
  15. The Winner Loses
  16. The Winners Loses
  17. There Goes The Neighborhood
  18. Voodoo


Body Count
Body Count
Bowels Of The Devil
Out one night, yo, just chillin' out with my crew
We were actin' wild
'cause I didn't have nothin' else better to do.
Got a nine at my waist
stay out my fuckin' face.
You fuck with me
right here'll be your resting place.
Some ol' sucka, yo, he tried to put a move on me
I shot him in the face,
murder, in the first degree.
Now I'm sweatin', regrettin',
that's not for me
they got me locked in the fuckin' penitentiary.

Bowels of the devil,
let me tell you what the muthafucka eats,
its stomach's filled with lost souls
guts made out of steel and concrete.
Bowels of the devil,
listen close, 'cause I've been there before
and you don't wanna die there,
they call it goin' out the back door,
the back door, the back door, the back door.

Walked in the club all the ho's gave me the sex look
they like a nigga like me 'cause I'm a known crook,
and my posse's down, we don't mess around,
you fuck with us,
you'll be six feet underground.
That night they got me locked in a row called death
the governor, that muthafucka wants my last breath.
That's right, homeboy wanted to pull a switch on me
up here in this fuckin' penitentiary.

Bowels of the devil,
let me tell you what the sucka eats,
its stomach's filled with my homeboys
guts made out of steel and concrete.
Bowels of the devil,
listen close, 'cause I've been there before
and you don't wanna die there,
they call it goin' out the back door,
the back door, the back door, the back door. Yeah!

Bowels of the devil,
let me tell you what the muthafucka eats,
its stomach's filled with my homeboys
guts made out of steel and concrete.
Bowels of the devil,
listen close, 'cause I've been there before
and you don't wanna die there,
they call it goin' out the back door,
the bowels of the devil,
let me tell you what that sucka eats,
its stomach's filled with lost souls
guts made out of steel and concrete.
Bowels of the devil,
listen close, 'cause I've been there before
and you don't wanna die there,
they call it goin' out the back door,
the back door, the back door, the back door.
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