When they kick at your front doornHow you going to come?nWith your hands on your headnOr on the trigger of your gun?nnWhen the law breaks innHow you going to go?nShot down on the pavementnOr waiting on death row?nnYou can crush usnYou can bruise usnBut you'll have to answer tonOh, the guns of BrixtonnnThe money, it feels goodnAnd your life, it treats you wellnBut surely your end will comenAs in heaven, as in hellnnYou see, he feels like IvannBorn under the Brixton sunnHis game is called survivingnAt the end of the harder they comennYou can crush usnYou can bruise usnBut you'll have to answer tonOh, the guns of BrixtonnnWhen they kick at your front doornHow you going to come?nWith your hands on your headnOr on the trigger of your gun?nnWhen the law break innHow you going to go?nShot down on the pavementnOr waiting on death row?nnYou can crush usnYou can bruise usnYou can even shoot us!nBut, oh, the guns of BrixtonnnYou can crush usnYou can bruise usnBut you'll have to answer tonOh, the guns of Brixton