Lyrics Shoot Back 2 (Dear Officer) / Train Tracks - KXNG Crooked

Shoot Back 2 (Dear Officer) / Train Tracks

I tell 'em you ain’t gotta heartbeat or a soul but I’m gonna murder ya
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, you a robocop I’ma short-circuit ya
You did the hood dirty, I’ma do you dirtier
I’m standing over the face of a cop with a Glock, end of the story
I’ma take y’all back 20 hours earlier
This what set off the nonsense
A cop walks in to break up a simple fight but he body slam a teenage girl
unconscious
They don’t see us as human beings, they see monsters
Police academy brainwash them, the FOX News corp brainwashed them
And when the Empire puts chips in your brain, forget it mane
Shit you say niggas can’t stop 'em
They murderers, crazy in the head, compassion for none
They don’t look at you and see a man, they see some alien stare
That’s why I’m asking, to the police what kind of beast do you have to become
To kill a child so young that was having some fun
Would you have shot Tamir if that was your son?
You pull us over, we contemplating Capital One
Go back where you’re from, I’m strapped with a drum
A MAC, if you cap you get clapped in the lung
You crashed in the slums feeling like you didn’t want it to stop
Get clapped in the back if you run
You left paraplegic, police did the deed in the
The upper class, they in a trance cuz even if they ask and they still alive,
they might never believe it
Under hypnosis, the empire hit 'em with their memory wipers
So they don’t remember they liked us
If they don’t see us as human beings, they don’t give a fuck if our enemies
snipe us
I’ve told 'em you ain’t gotta heartbeat or a soul but I’m gonna murder ya
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, you a robocop I’ma short circuit ya
You did the hood dirty, I’ma do you dirtier
Standing over the face of a cop with a Glock, with only one shot End of the
story
Just like I said earlier
The observer takes many forms.
The observer collects human data
Suffering is ageless, oppression is timeless
Let’s go back.
The year is 1932
The place: anywhere
I got nowhere to go (I got nowhere to go)
Cuz they kicked in my door (Cuz they kicked in my door)
Then they kill all my folks (Then they kill all my folks)
And they took all my hope (And they took all my hope)
I’m on the train tracks (Train tracks)
I’m on the train tracks (I'm on the train tracks)
I ain’t coming round here again (Coming round here again)
Till I get myself some payback (Get my self some payback)
He slept all night at the railroad tracks with no knapsack
His own back was his bed
He just kicked back, relaxing his head on an old back pack
Dreaming about leaving town and never go back
But this is no Amtrak, this is the freight train
Heard some brakes grinding and squeaking
Woke him up, climbed to his feet
He started running alongside the train, timing his leap, and dove in with tears
dried to his cheek, cuz he was crying in his sleep
His heart beat fast, he’s skipping town with everything he has;
his clothes,
his life and his past, got a nightmarish past
See it was April 19th, the night he saw Templar knights, cross embossed on a
white sheet
Eight men came in
But this family just tryna get a good night’s sleep
They slaughtered them like sheep
Before they cut his mother to the white meat
He told her her younger son to run
Hopped out the window and hit the side street
Look back in torment and see his father’s body dormant, hanging like a ornament
on a pine tree
«Why me?»
Death came riding on horses, survivors of Forrest’s
Of course he has survivor’s remorse, that night was the source of it
What changed the course of his life and morphed it into the life of an orphan
Before then, shit was perfect
Now he’s raising himself on the streets, doing odd jobs on a different circuit
He’s shining white men’s shoes, they call him nigga while the kid is working
But he’s plotting revenge so this shit is worth it
He put himself through college with that polish
His past, he would demolish it with knowledge
But he promised to avenge the death of his mama and father, so he hid his
murderous vendetta behind the persona of a scholar
Some white men really befriended
But others he simply pretended, his memories trigger resentment
Memories of the misery he mentally lived with
Misery, you figure his success would instantly end it
Nah, cuz one day he walked to the coffee shop
Waiting for a cup of joe, longer than he ever waited
He’s at the back door cuz integration was regulated
The owner know he educated, but still it was segregated
He sitting there, thinking «damn even getting coffee is a hurdle»
Then he heard that made his blood curdle
The same voice from that forsaken night
The same voice that told his mama I’m about to take your life
The voice that told his mom this is my favorite knife
Then pushed it in her gut and told her say goodnight
The thirst for revenge became too hard to stop
Knew he wouldn’t get no justice if he called a cop
Ran inside with a old pistol his father bought
People shouting, like «who let this nigga in this coffee shop?»
The voice of the killer was heard loudly
«I'll kick this nigga out right now and do it proudly!»
That’s when the black man pulled his gun, he drew it wildly
The crowd jumped, he pointed it at the killer and told him
«I'll be damned if I let you get away with what you did, I’ve been waiting to
kill you with my father’s gun since I was a kid»
One, two, three shots, four, five, six
Dreamin' of this day, he didn’t know it would go like this
None of this is planned, one minute he’s ordering some coffee
Next minute the gun is in his hand, the life of the person that murdered his
mother in his hand, so he took it
Then he looked at his daddy’s gun, tucked it in his pants, and… ran
I remember the people coming in, white people coming into our house,
with torches, setting the curtains on fire
I got nowhere to go (I got nowhere to go)
Cuz they kicked in my door (Cuz they kicked in my door)
Then they kill all my folks (Then they kill all my folks)
And they took all my hope (And they took all my hope)
I’m on the train tracks (Train tracks)
I’m on the train tracks (I'm on the train tracks)
I ain’t coming round here again (Coming round here again)
Till I get my self payback (Get my self payback)
Everybody was just standing around, nobody said anything, didn’t want nothing,
'till finally a rude old white man came up to there and said, «Nigga,
what you doing with that pistol?»