Yo this officer Nick with damage to inflict But first lemme pose for the gram right quick Damn right bitch, going ham like shit Then it's back to that ku klux klan type clique Turn a man to a convict quick as hell You catch a bullshit case or you catch a shell By the time i was 11 knew i had to rebel Turned 13 twice, wasn't fucking with 12 Get a dozen cronuts, throw one in the trash Word bond to my ma I'm done getting harassed I'll keep it brief, you all tighty with whitey, you see the contrast? Taking a knee, yall just making me laugh Thinking I'ma make peace with a killer copper We got big beef nigga, it's a triple whopper But we'll take 40 acres if you got it in stock or Else we going Swarzenegger, we gon' get to the chopper "We're not those cops" - man opps is opps "Plus I listen to hip hop" - opps is opps "I once voted for Barack" - yo opps is opps Got a fist up, but they still doing no knocks They don't wanna see a black renaissance They just wanna see us stomped from the bay to the bronx Same shit they did to my pops' pops Still pain on the block, cuz opps is opps Can't leave the mic alone, I'm obsessed with jordan Give less than a fuck about some Yve St. Laurent Still fresh to death and it ain't looted nigga But I just left a museum and saw what you did nigga Fuck you think I'm stupid nigga? I know what this is A pawn in the biggest con since Genghis Still wanna put the blame on Jena Six Running old game like they playing Genesis Sega riddance, sega bye, sega night to the bad guy Yell for Adele, tell 'em I said hi Raising hell like it was my first child Yall NFL, you niggas fuckin' lie Yo Kraft and them be craftin' what we hear A pic with Meek, then tweet "thoughts & prayers" But for every single one of them billionaires It's a billion motherfuckers that they fucked to get there "We're not those cops" - man opps is opps "Plus I listen to hip hop" - opps is opps "I once voted for Barack" - yo opps is opps Got a fist up, but they still doing no knocks They don't wanna see a black renaissance They just wanna see us stomped from the bay to the bronx Same shit they did to my pops' pops Still pain on the block, cuz opps is opps I'm sick of all the aggression, sick of yall whole profession I'm sick of telling my niggas that I'ma see 'em in heaven I'm sick of mothers feeling hurt showing us how to reckon Being a suspect first and a citizen second I let my drink get hot, i'm sick of ICE too I'm sick of lies 'bout why you ain't liable I'm sick of how they split the crips and pirus But I won't fall in the cracks, I'ma shine through You think a pic could erase what we think of police? I'm sick of yall dictating how we speaking our peace So I do this in remembrance of the streets When the Rona got rid of that 40 hour work week I'm sick of that being how yall get us to act tame I'm finna act up, you finna take the blame I'm sick of staying in this "we just entertain yall" lane So get a extra controller, cuz two can play at that game

That ratchet pop at that traffic stop Ratchet pop at that traffic stop It's whack bro, but it's facts though That ratchet pop at that traffic stop Ratchet pop at that traffic stop Ratchet pop at that traffic stop I'm deadass with yo' dead ass Cuz that ratchet popped at that traffic stop Lookin' like a mack, Dolemite, no pimp hand All through the hood got a good reputation Even overseas, ya got a few friends British cats like "he a good chap, man!" But cop wondering how you look so clean Fuck you mean? I bought them jeans Reach for receipt but you know what that mean Pop, pop, pop like you went mainstream Hair done with them nails too Out Malibu and she feelin' girly The night was slow but, po-po roll up Even though she left early You could be Cinderelli in the Disney gown With the Disney sound comin' out ya mouth But you best be in 'fore the clock strike midnight At your grandma's house Somethin' innocent like out there fishin' And in a sense it was intuition Hyped to shoot on first suspicion Despite the suit tailor-made for a Christian Bitch you know what I'm wishin? (What?) Cop kill a nigga, cop get locked up Maybe then my brown skin Wouldn't be finna get me shot up His blood brother was a undercover Now another black mother cryin' Her heart can't heal from that ordeal When they cast steel from the iron A black boy in South Troy She knew the shit from day one It could be for his life or his dignity Either way, they gonna rob her son That ratchet pop at that traffic stop Ratchet pop at that traffic stop It's whack bro, but it's facts though That ratchet pop at that traffic stop Ratchet pop at that traffic stop Ratchet pop at that traffic stop I'm deadass with yo' dead ass Cuz that ratchet popped at that traffic stop (x2) It's gray skies over Baltimore Blue lights make red, it's the Art of War And boy though when they through with you You gon' need a crutch or two It got much ado about nothing new But these dreadlocks ain't a safe look for you And my hair is not the main issue But each dread raise my threat level Why these niggas always eyein' me But don't never ask Brad for that ID That's that po po policy So he get off scott free And we the one's end up in cages Fuck up and they garner wages Yeah I sold some loosies but Lemme do some 'splainin' bruh! Made an honest living and kept it real Had some hits in New York like Paul O'neill But if the cop at the stop feeling some type of way It's fifty-fifty I'ma die today Catch one from a number nine to the head Now his hair all Ron McDonald red You a disgrace to the human race With yo' resting bitch ass nigga face Them murderers be at home reclining So I see no sterling silver lining Reminding me what a black life worth Could stay on course but of course you cursed Feel like I need some Oxy Or morphine the way it hurts Just want education and knowledge from Eden I'm on them "ed" words God told me to be a tsunami So I got apocalyptic flows My dog told me to murder this beat So the woof how Son of Sam do, Bose Chicken fried rhymes I was cookin' down south But my only goal: to keep it bland up in your mouth I hear that woo-woo and I know for who that bell toll Always been shootin' first man, the po-po Han Solo And a lil' grain of rice could tip the whole fuckin' scale So let's throw our weight around, cuz Tamir was only twelve!