When they kick at 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 Brixton.

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 Brixton sun.

You can crush us, you can bruise us,
But you'll have to answer to.
Oh, the guns of Brixton.

When they kick at 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,
Yeah, even shoot us.
But oh-the guns of Brixton.

Shot down on the pavement, waiting in death row,
His game was survivin' as in heaven as in hell.

You can crush us, you can bruise us,
But you'll have to answer to,
Oh, the guns of Brixton.

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