Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Behind Closed Doors, artist - WC & The Maad Circle.
Date of issue: 21.01.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Behind Closed Doors |
And The Maad Circle Aiy Toones! What’s up, man? How many of your people in your |
neighborhood got one of this? What’s that? I have just fallen, and I can’t get |
up! We’re sending help immediately Mrs. |
FreetureDear Mr. |
chief of police, excuse my handwritingBut try to understand that I wrote this |
with a broken handI’m just one out of many from the inner cityWhose been a |
victim of unseen police brutalityBeating with a Billy Club until I became |
numbPistol whip — bruises on my face from a handgunThey said: that I was |
speeding, going over the limitBut when they pulled me over man, they never gave |
me a ticketThey just said: I better stick both of my hands out my windowReal |
slow or be one dead negroUhh. |
but I was used to the routineI moved in a slow pace, cause I don’t wanna be a |
mistakeBut that’s when your boys got the tripping on meThey pulled me out my |
car and they’re both started kicking on meI ain’t no Punching Bag man, |
my name ain’t Greddy or FreddyFor a cop to be beating me anytime that he’s |
readySo I dropped to my knees and I covered my head tightBut that’s when they |
bust me in the neck with a flashlightBut still I stayed calm and took the |
painPictured when my ancestors gone through the same thingBut then I started |
thinking about the brother from Al TadenaWho once have said: I was the next in |
their agendaSo I gotta flip, hurtle, hit the corner with flash bagsSo held my |
chase in Jesse York’sBut when I woke up, another black and a white |
roomParalyzed waist down from a bullet woundAnd now I’m being charged for |
resisting arrestBut it was either catch a bullet or be beating to deathNow for |
the rest of my life, I got tubes connected to my lungsJust because your boys |
wanted to have funSo here’s a complaint, to let the whole world knowThis is |
what goes on behind closed doorsThe policemen are your friendsThey’re here to |
protect and serveBut as long as you’re white then you’re alrightAnd you won’t |
get beat to the curbThe policemen are your friendsThey’re here to protect and |
serveBut if you’re black, you better not talk backCause if you do; |
then you will get burntBack up on the streets after five long hard yearsI did |
my time on Concrete in Steel tears (HELL NO!)No — it wasn’t the crime of the |
century (YEAH)And no — I didn’t enjoy the penitentiary (What's up? |
)But that was in the past now I’m back on the pavement (WORD!)With two kids |
that gone on full probationIt feels kind of good not to carry a shankI got five |
hundred dollars on my way to the bankOh oh, here come a black and white; |
I’m gonna get jacked tonight (Who Was That, HUH?) and it’s Officer O. |
WhiteThe same crooked cop from along time ago (What's up?)Who planted an ounce |
in my homie El CaminoWith a smile on his face, he said welcome back niggaHad |
his partner on the side with his finger on the triggerI knew the routine, |
so I assumed the positionStarted searching through my pockets like he was on a |
mission (WORD!)Yo, came up over my nuts and look what I gotI said: |
That’s money that I made in the Metal ShopAs he put it in his pocket and said: |
End of ConversationAnd you better start walking or face a violationI looked |
him in the eyes and knew he was a punkAnother sissy with a badge just trying to |
front (WORD!)I told him take off your gun and we can go someAnd if you? |
from the shoulders, you can have my funds (WORD!)He didn’t hesitated and threw |
the first punchBut quickly I ducked, and went straight for the nutsWith a left, |
right — right left, right left ----→Ice CubeGoddamn! — but did you knock him |
out? ----→W. |
Yep, and that’s when his partner put his gun in my sideAnd said: |
Get in the trunk, punk; we’re going for a rideThey took me to a hood that my |
hood was feuding withLocals in a park, drinking Forties and kicking it? |
is getting wet, and waiting for a picnicThey let me out the trunk and said sick |
him (Sick of that bullshit) That's how the story goes (What?) — in a rat |
holeCause I’m a second class citizen, behind closed doorsHanging at the crack |
house, slanging my ya-yoI'm making about a twenty thousand dollars a day or |
soBut here comes Johnny the NarcoThe neighborhood cop from around the |
blockHoping that he can pot my spotBut wait a minute, he is solo — Oh |
noSomething smelling fishy, y’all, cause that ain’t like 5−0I wondered what’s |
up, I seen him slowly stepping out of his rideNow he’s calling me off to the |
sideI’m peeping out the corners for back-upCause nowadays smokers be snitching |
on niggaz and setting them upBut it was far from a set upIt was more like a |
proposition aimed for me to stay in my businessA little side money for the |
dirty copsTo keep the feds off my back while I’m slanging my rocksI should’ve |
listened to my homies and told them to go to hellAnd took any chance of getting |
busted and going to jailBut instead, I got to paying the cops off weeklyUntil |
they took advantage and started getting greedyThat’s when I told him that I was |
stepping outI’m just a memory from the past, and they can Kiss My Ass! |
But that’s when they started black mailing meAnd yelling and telling me: Uhh. |
you, black sheeps will be sorrySo later at that night, when I was at home |
sleepSomebody kicked in my door when they yelled out FREEZE… |
Open that Door! This time the suspected drug dealers spotted the crash |
officersbefore they hit the front door. |