| I’m sick of you hoes trying to run mine
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| I’m coming with a gun line running after one time
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| I got a grudge against you blue suits
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| Black suits, white suits and state troops
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| That’s the way you made us
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| Send a nigga to the penitentiary is how you play us
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| Lock us up for the summer
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| Took the nigga’s name away and passed his ass a number
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| Just because you legally pack a gat man
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| Doesn’t necessarily mean you have to point it at the Black man
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| Especially you Black cops, you let your gats pop
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| Because them Honkies got you brainwashed
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| So now we come to new dealings
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| Fuck all the dumb shit
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| The line of work is cap peelings
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| I’m cutting shit short
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| Ain’t no filling out reports
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| Cause you ain’t making it to court
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| I’m letting freedom ring
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| From the hole in my Glock, for fuckin off Rodney King
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| It ain’t nothing you can ask us
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| And since justice is blind
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| I’mma buy the bitch some glasses
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| Wake the fuck up, chucks
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| I’m coming after your ass
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| Crooked officer
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| Mr. Officer, crooked officer
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| I wanna put your ass in a coffin, sir
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| Cause you done fucked with niggas like myself for too long
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| It’s time to grab my motherfucking nine and get it on
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| Oh Mr. Officer, crooked officer, what’s happenin?
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| You beat another black man’s ass and now you’re high cappin
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| Friend, do I have to move to River Oaks
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| And bleach my fuckin skin so I can look like these white folks?
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| Just to get some assistance
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| Because the brutality in my neighborhood is gettin persistent
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| Cause you wanna harass me
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| Yeah, and if I talk back you wanna bust my black ass, G
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| Just like Rodney King
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| But if you try that shit with me, its gonna be a different scene
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| Try to pull me over on a dark road
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| But I’ll be damned if I don’t grab my nine and unload
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| Until every blue shirt turns red
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| You heard what I said
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| I want all you crooked motherfuckers dead
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| So you better start pickin out your coffin, sir
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| Cause I’m comin after your ass…
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| Hook: Big Mike
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| Momma called me up the other day, I got a warrant
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| Punk ass laws wanna know where the gun went
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| Said I shot a nigga the other night at a party
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| Lyin out they ass, I was at home drinkin 40s
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| Coolin with my niggas playin dominoes in the kitchen
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| A big black nigga did the killin and I fit the description
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| Yeah, and you know they think all black niggas look alike
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| So now they got the flashlight lookin for Big Mike
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| Jackin niggas up tryin to capture me
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| Coppers wanna gaffle me
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| Tryin to put bullets into the back of me
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| Time and time again I told them I didn’t do it
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| And they knew it, but they still pursued it
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| So them motherfuckers blew it
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| So now I’m about to grab my shit
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| And put them son of a bitches six feet under
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| Cause I’m sick of runnin from them motherfuckers
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| Turnin tables cause I’m able, I ain’t fallin victim
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| Time to play a game, see the police, watch me stick 'em
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| Cause I ain’t runnin from a p-o-l-i-c-e
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| Any motherfuckin t-i-m-e
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| They’ll have to g-e-t me
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| Off the s-e-t in my h-double o-d
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| Fuckin around with the B-i-g
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| They’ll be in a g-r-a-v-e
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| Hook: Big Mike |