| Yeah; |
| I’m often haunted by thoughts of crooked cops
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| Glocks raised, blockin my sunrays and optimism
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| It only takes one shot to take what we got
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| The gift of life, and make your body start to stiffen
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| It’s a shame that we each gotta lose
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| Loved ones before we see tomorrow’s not given
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| As sure as the sun shines, I’ll go for mine
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| So when I die, at least I’ll know that I died livin
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| Tim Thomas ran from two cops out to get him
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| Into a dark alley, then two shots hit him
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| Another inner city killing nobody witnessed
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| Swept under the rug, as official police business
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| I seen his moms on television, pleadin and cryin
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| Tellin cops to stop killing
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| And calm down the youth that choose not to listen
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| One life, one love, but all we got is vengeance
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| Now they’re on a burn down the Sin City mission
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| Lookin for the pigs that licked shots and got missin
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| You know it’s chaos even if you don’t hear it
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| Cause the air smells like gun smoke and teen spirit
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| Whatever is goin down I want to be near it
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| When a thousand stand as one, you start to feel fearless
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| Enough to walk across hot coal no matter how hot
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| Break another window, maybe throw another rock
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| Maybe so, maybe not (maybe so, maybe not)
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| Maybe I’ll be the next black man to get shot
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| Maybe so, maybe not (maybe so, maybe not)
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| Maybe I’ll be the next black man to get shot, but, but.
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| You’ll have to kill me first
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| Before I get inside the paddywagon
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| You took too many of my people
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| Nobody knows what happened
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| It’s kind of fucked up cause as a child I do remember Officer Friendly
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| Homey that hit the crib later to peep the Chi sweeps
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| Have you ever had your spot raided for dope, couches ripped
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| Glass tables flipped, brass bent, dogs sniffin in the cereal
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| NyQuil and aspirin tossed out the medicine cabinets
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| Just to find these stupid motherfuckers had the wrong apartment
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| No apologies or nothin, left my mother in tears
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| After scramblin to get it destroyed, a life scarring
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| Was bad enough my coat was wore and hell I even smiled
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| When a cop sloppy in crossfire
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| Hopin that she died in hallway piss
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| Retribution for my feelings of bein cuffed to a fence
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| Harassed in front of droppin my white she asked about some fuckin colors
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| But ain’t no Crips from where I reside
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| On one occasion walkin to Osco threatened by a dick
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| Talkin 'bout we walkin down the wrong blocks
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| Now that I think about it was the first time that I saw a Glock
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| Upper loaded black barrel at eyelevel, these muh’fuckin heathens
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| And I seen it in the bitch’s racist face that she wanted to pull
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| Her image burned inside my mind forever
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| Until I have yet to tell my seeds, Kaneisha still believes
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| And I’m prayin it’s an occupation she don’t wanna ever see
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| A living that my cousin wasn’t blue enough to be
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| And ever since a child they made a lifelong enemy of me, shit |