Lyrics Freedmen's Bureau - E L U C I D, Billy Woods

Freedmen's Bureau

25K starting pay, play the game
Make a name for yourself
Put the blame on someone else
Oh he reached to resist
Empty clips and spent shells
Just how many, in defense it’s all blurred
Allegations waiting, where’s the autopsy
Toxicology lab and they knocking
If it was one of your own I bet they’d have the city sewn the fuck up
Muscle down the weakest link
You can’t stop the bumrush
Tactics of a lesser god
Feed the beast, scan your card
Carbs in charge, quota time, numbers talk
Jeers and taunts, fuck 'em all
Damage control, procedures right out the book
Be honest for once, man
You shoot cause you shook
Death squads answer to who?
Furtive movements, make 'em nervous men
They grabbing their tool
Bet that’s murder, bloody murder
Which weasel you finna hide behind?
State-appointed pervert, the story it’s all designed
Vulture time, crooked dicks, and deep pockets
Lifetime desk job offers with full coverage
One hand wash the other, loyalty is a given
Who you calling a victim?
Stay away from twice-fried pork
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furtive movements, trigger blast they got a right to
Ain’t no telling what he might do
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furtive movements, trigger blast they got a right to
Ain’t no telling what he might do
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furtive movements, trigger blast they got a right to
Ain’t no telling what he might do
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furtive movements, trigger blast they got a right to
Ain’t no telling what he might do
They wanna know if you live what you say
But talk is cheap and I’m in the dollar store erry day
I’ve half a mind to rob the place
Clean getaway to stalk streets with a pocketful of bad pennies
Juvenile Techniques
Double Vinyl, paint train Lionel
Mind you, the last time shit went down we couldn’t find you
So, revolution?
Color me skeptical like swine flew
Crackers still win when they lose, like Rocky
88, King Jaffe, 7th grade, Coming To America, slightly out of touch
I wasn’t black enough for the back of the cheese bus
Swiftly dumbed it down, started acting up (you see where that got me!)
They dark as Chris Tucker calling me a spear chucker
Kid, they really mindfucked ya
But make no mistake, I’m Quinn Buckner
Black on Black
Matter fact errybody in the hood Benjamin Button
It’s just black don’t crack
Erry corner Babylon strapped with gats, more plastic than Chinese export
And it’s looking like we caught
Till he use the force
These are not the negroes you’re looking for
Whether synth or beatbox, heat rocks like pipe dreaming in detox
Now all I need is a tape fulla disposable cheap shots
To get the moniker buzzing like doors to 90s weed spots
Super Cat cousin, I’ll play the fiddle while ya ghetto red hot
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furtive movements, trigger blast they got a right to
Ain’t no telling what he might do
Everybody wanna be a nigga, nobody wanna be a nigga
Furtive movements, trigger blast they got a right to
Ain’t no telling what he might do