| Man it’s just weed man, you trippin'
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| Man I already gave you my license and insurance man
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| You trippin' man
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| Have you ever been arrested just for being too clean
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| On a Sunday night
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| They’ll take you’re car, take you to jail
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| Won’t have a bond until Monday night
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| Man they just took 13 thousand dollars outta my pocket
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| Talkin' bout it’s drug related, cause I had a cigarillo
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| They need to stop it
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| Since Barack Obama became the first black president
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| Tha police have been waging war against the black residents
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| Racial profiling is at an all time high
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| We represent 10% of the population but 65% of the jail population
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| And I can’t tell you why (why), yeah
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| A lot of us are guilty as charged, and as much as I hate to say it
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| Some brothas deserve to be behind bars
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| You know the ones that beat on women
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| And the murderers and the rapists
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| And especially the ones that kidnap and even abandon babies
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| I promise all I was doing was leaving the Waffle House
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| They shined they lights on me and they saw the steak and waffles in my mouth
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| They pulled me over, took my money, and gave the King a weed case
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| And I’m STILL tryna get my money back from the state
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| I can’t even ride down the street
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| Without being harassed by tha police
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| Ain’t botherin' nobody so why y’all fuckin' with a G
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| So what I got a lil' drank and a lil' weed
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| I’m Screwed Up Click, officer we don’t speed
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| I’m on swangers but in and out the lane I don’t weave
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| So what’s yo probable cause for handcuffing me
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| It’s just a dollar to you laws, to take us away from our family
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| What the fuck
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| Damn, yeah yeah
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| The popo see young Wowo holdin' and lookin' good
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| I’m from Yellowstone, so my car is yellow tone and I’m lookin' hood
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| Ground effects, black and gold Vogues and '4s, I’m lookin' sporty
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| I heard HPD got an APB out and they lookin' for me
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| Well guess what
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| Every curve I swerve I’m known for hittin' the blinker bitch
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| All around the town, back and forth, here and there
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| On some frequent shit
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| I know you upset cause the paint so wet
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| You think it’s leakin' bitch
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| So you pull me over and detain me on some juvenile delinquent shit
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| Like I don’t know my rights from wrong, we ain’t right your wrong
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| So what, you’re whoop whoopin' and your bright lights is on
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| Because it’s gone, all the smokes been smoked and the dranks been drunk
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| And here’s my license and insurance
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| You faulty blue suit punk
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| Now what the funk you really want, fuckin' with me
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| Cause it’s obvious I’m C dot dub, a motherfuckin' G
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| He had the gall to ask me for some posters and some CDs
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| Said if I sign 'em he’ll give me a ticket and let me leave
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| Ain’t that a BITCH
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| I’m from the Screwed Up Click officer we don’t speed
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| And since we ain’t going to or comin' back from
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| We ain’t got no mo' weed
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| Oh I was weavin' in and out my lane, huh?
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| Z-Ro was drivin' recklessly
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| Does all this candy paint and this chrome have you upset with me
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| It’s only a 300 man it ain’t like it’s a Jag
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| Just because you can’t afford none of them ain’t a reason to get mad
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| My insurance good, it ain’t nothin' wrong with none of my tags
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| Really you just fuckin' wit' me cause you got that gun and that badge
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| You ain’t have no probable cause to pull me over anyway
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| Cause I wasn’t doin' nothin', you just tryna reach a quota for the day
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| Now a days, innocence is overrated, everybody did it
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| Guilty until proven guilty, why, cause jail is big business
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| The penitentiary get paid to clothe us and feed us
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| Without us they go broke, we get convicted cause they need us
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| But I believe in Jesus, the one true judge
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| And he ain’t gon' let you do nothin' he don’t want you to do judge |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Tha Police , by - Z-Ro. Song from the album Cocaine (Screwed), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп