Lyrics:
And we came by to talk to the mayor
The I-Team wants the mayor to explain this
Wednesday, Cleveland police swarmed the home of Mayor Frank Jackson
of police, yeah
Brain sleep, yeah
I feel like taking off
Bouta roll up the sticky and let it leave, yeah
Pains breached, yeah
Don't let your dreams go
(Verse
I was looking outside
Outside
Police in the wind
Hot wind
I remembered those times
Those times
Had me scared out of my skin
See it's under my skin
RS2!
You never give me your money
You only give me your funny paper
And in the middle of negotiations
You break down
I never give you my
Put 'em in a bag and shut they mouth (shut up)
Police walk around, they won't hear a sound (uh-uh)
I'm all by myself and I keep it a hundred
I keep
us you can't hang
cause were something like a two man gang
start some shit is what we do best
scared by the suckaz say fuck the rest
so yo Eazy bust it
The police ever since he moved in G
I got to go man this shit crazy
I cant make no moves man this shit Is all bad bro
Fuck
911 What's the nature of your
, police
When they pull up on you don't freeze, nah
Poor decisions as a young nigga
Growing up in the slums locals ain't supposed to see the light of day by
clean from flossin
I've been ducking enemies
Police no friend of me
Avoid um by any means
State over federally
No one can get to me
Only let the baddest
play with life
Like new toys
Overjoyed
Being coy
From taking that mother’s boy
Fuck 12 And divide it by 2
6 people carrying his coffin
Killed by
strong (yeah)
Yo,got my mind on a place to hide from police(where)
Sweatin' dogs as I'm runnin' cross 12th Street
Just as I approach the block
I spot
Strolling down the block hoodie up wearing all black
Never gave a fuck police never come in contact
With a crooked muthafucka like me
Nowhere to go
the streets
I'll be the only one that you gonna run to
Just getting paper and ducking police
Look what the ghetto did to me
(Uh, yeah, yeah)
There was no peace
Two revolvers, I can let twelve spin
Hop in my Benz, push it to the limit
Buck-sixty who wit' me?
My Cris', two L's, twisted blunts and inner
the rabbit got the gun
When I cock back, police better run
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, fuck 12
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, fuck 12
16 shots
Manifestus
Call police if you need help
Do you trust that
Never trust that
Bloody monsters in a dark land
Are they really on our side
Know it’s just
shoes
Police finding out the gang on the move
Going crazy, thinkin' we on the loose
Spanish bitches that we fucking in twos
Flexin' in my whip,
Even ducked a gun, Nintendo Duck Hunt
I ducked police, I had to run
Meanwhile, when you get old you might become futile
My old style is a rough of my
A hundred years after that…fucked
A hundred years after you get free you still getting fucked out of jobs
And shot at by police you see what I'm saying
Cuz
the crib on the floor by my two-way
Now I'm try'nna hold my hammer up, and my pants too
If they don't kill me, they gon' give me a number I can't do
the suspect entered the
Victim's apartment and was suspected
By police to have
Killed over twenty bodyguards of the man
Who
Was also suspected to be a police
Today we're gonna do something scary
We're venturing into the mind of young black males
Let's take a peak...
[ Young Lay ]
Cuddies perved by
squeezed on the trigga with the gun to his fo'-head.
(Chorus x2)
Blew the top out his skull, now they want me dead
All the niggas in his hood, police
the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith
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