Pig Latin

Why do people fear what they don't know?

Constantly lookin' at me funny cause my pants swung low

And my hats rocked to the left

All these dirty looks be gettin me stressed

It's time to dead that

Testify and get your head wrapped like Arabian cats

terrorist act's will have you pigs squealin at last

Wayne County Jail full of noxious gas

got three quarters of your senses massed

you're left with only the sense of Touch like Tony

The majority of these boys in blue are phony

crooked like Saint Ides, instead of tryin to save lives

they out for delph, only tryin to help them self

They pull me over talkin about a seatbelt, we all know thats bullshit

the fact is I look suspicious, THATS IT!!

Type of kid to expose corruption, like crop circles and alien abductions

Park patrolling toy cop reproductions

Hunger for power equals negative reprocussions

Get rushed as if I was rushin with no discussion

try and cuff me and catch a mild concussion

I've taken all the stress I can

peace America I'm movin off to foreign lands

where cops don't place narcotics in innocent hands

Framin cats just to meet a quota

searchin' everyone with baggy pants and Moterola's

Thats why I'm wild with a camcorder

to catch 'em slippin when they pull me over

flip 'em the bird then I'm ghost in my Toyota

Won't stop writin til this shit cease

Until someone's there to police the police

I'm sick of all this everyday harassment

(Sick of hopelessly watchin my man gettin his ass kicked, sick of being

followed shit is drastic)

Sick of havin visions of black caskets (just because we rock our pants low)

And our hats backwards (These cops is like cancer)

A tumor on our ass (We want answers)

For bad manners (And the use of police scanners)

So we jottin down their numbers (In our pocket planners)

for the day we meet up (With Jim Shapiro) THE HAMMER!

They got this little game that they play

tellin you that you that you done somethin wrong

Then they flash the badge in your face

and you don't even know what's goin' on

They don't even give you a reasons, orno clue as to what it is you've done

You go for your registration, and then they put your ass to sleep

(And tell the chief you reached for heat)

Cops be poppin' confiscated glocks with a sack of rocks right under it

the funny thing is, this murders funded by the government

Yo they'll kill you and put the crack in your pocket to make it legal

Illegally plant the confiscated gat right by you in your Regal

and say you shot first, delete you from digital files its lethal

Most of these cops is see through, that's why we do what we do

That's why we tell the truth about what police do

Son they'll issue you a ticket right before they beat you

I'm glad the truth scares you, hit me mr.officer I dare you

Check the rearview, you'll see the camcorder, extended lens too

You better call for back-up, chew the rest of that crack up

cause we got you on tape with that girl you raped and handcuffed

Yeah you shook now, and if you swing on me I'm about to fight back

The man ain't nothin but the klan, but not in white they rockin blue and black

It's a proven fact cops is just white collared criminals

they ride in Crown V's injectin neighborhoods with chemicals

I'm tellin you, it all makes sense they killed the president

sniped him out with one shot then lurked out with all the evidence

I'm speakin relevance, ignorant heads won't try to hear me

cause the truth will make the masses bug out, like Tim Leary

If you want kids off the streets give us somethin to do

instead of constant harassment and curfew's (COME ON)

Since when did dreadlocks become probable cause

totin' around a backpack become breakin the law

Son I'm fed up, so get up, stand up like Bob told you

and learn some Tai Bo in case they try to choke hold you

I'm sick of all this everyday harassment

(Sick of hopelessly watchin my man gettin his ass kicked, sick of being

called a black bastard)

Sick of havin visions of black caskets (Just because we rock our pants low)

and our hats backwards (These cops is like cancer)

a tumor on our ass, (we want answers)

for bad manners (and the use of police scanners)

So we jottin' down their numbers (in our pocket planners)

For the day we meet up (with Jim Shapiro) THE HAMMER!

(I'm sick of all this everyday harassment)

Sick of hopelessly watchin my man gettin his ass kicked, sick of being

followed shit is drastic

(Sick of havin visions of black caskets) Just because we rock our pants low

(And our hats backwards) These cops is like cancer

(A tumor on our ass) We want answers

(For bad manners) And the use of police scanners

(So we jottin down their numbers) In our pocket planners

(for the day we meet up) With Jim Shapiro THE HAMMER!