[Boy] A.L.T., will you tell me a story about indians
Chorus: Boy One little, two little, three little indians Four little, five little, six little indians Seven little, eight little, nine little indians Ten little indians gone
[A.L.T.] (Verse 1) Tisk-it a task-it, task-it to tusk-it One little indian, run from the musket Head for the hills and make it pronto Don't believe that B.S. You heard about a pale face and Tonto Many many troops came in blue suits Stomp a little child's head Til he's dead with them big black boots Raid, then pillage A teepee village But here comes the tomahawk, jackin' up a cowboy This means war A test for the west Had to put a arrow in the Pony Express I had a vision of a eagle in flight I speak the least hype, put out the peace pipe But the white man came, thick as syrup Thousands and thousands, they mailed in from Europe
Refrain: A.L.T. Now they wanna be a friend again Damn Forget it And run, little indian
Repeat Chorus
(Verse 2) Here comes the calvary, send the white man in How can you compare a arrow with a cannon Buffalo Bill's, eyes filled with hatred History updated Let me say what they did They brought many men on the back, of a horse Shoot another buffalo cause that's the main food source That made the indian's eyes filled with tears But for years, all you thought a cowboy did was rope steers Let's play cowboys and indians, it's sad, why Cause the indian was always the bad guy But in reality Yo, it had to be The pale face that took the territory But that's only history In your schoolbooks See They talk about a tree, but I still call 'em all crooks
Repeat Refrain
Repeat Chorus
[Sample] "In any war Once you've read your history books You can Read the indian wars Such and such, just, it's listed in your history And But when you lose the battle Or lose a war Why then, you have to suffer the consequences They're conquered people"
(Verse 3) Run Indian, head for the mountains If Coronel Custard comes around, then you scalp 'em Or fly another arrow with the flame on the tip Flip the cap back Down, Mr. C's on the dead tip They gave In return for tomahawks, not just some gold rocks A wise man had a vision A thought of reservation It was one stop short of a prison Tax free, that's the apology Anthropology shows the truth But they still won't acknowledge me The green land with the beach filled with white sand Now has a freeway controlled by a white man As I look up Disgust, only how, it's me Plus Chris Columbus gets credit for discovery
Repeat Refrain
Repeat Chorus TwiceTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.