New York City Cops

Aight man, here’s a book I wrote about cops in New York (Son, do you know what I’m stoppin' you for?) You know, I’m sayin' fuck the police, fuck the NYPD (Son, do you know what he’s stoppin' you for?) They never made me feel safer [Verse 1] He had the badge ID covered in black tape (covered) Irish dude spends his weekends in blackface (a weirdo!) Smacking Immigrants, asking them how the crack taste (Guatamalans!) Mushed his pregnant wife face while she lactate (a bad man!) Over-overseeing the rat race Goes to Cape Cod when Manhattan feels too fast paced Now he hate God, disgraced, odd and out of place And he takes it out on us (his experience) Victor told me what happened with them BART cops Told ‘em, “Yo, I ain’t ever met a smart cop” (they’re idiots) Alec said no one heard of you like a cool cop In '01 almost shot the fair one with a school cop Heema for Louima cause they could have did'd me wrong (I’m brown!) That’s word to Eleanor Bumpurs in a Lou Reed song Protect and serve, keep from the way of harm Timothy Stansbury was 19 and unarmed [Hook x2] Ayo, fuck the New York pricks and dicks Who wanna be a cop but a power hungry idiot? The worst people! New York cops are the worst! [Verse 2] Oy vey, these guys is New York’s spineless Strangled and denied it for Anthony Baez They was cruel, maybe had a pool, probably That was ‘94, he was one of three bodies (unarmed) Ernest Sayon (unarmed) And Johnnie Cromartie (unarmed) Under Giuliani, well, they had them a party (bang bang!) In '73, there were riots in Queens (Jamaica) When they merked Clifford Glover, he wasn’t even a teen (a child!) Used to be nine, he had just turned ten (a child!) Pig said, “Die, you little fuck” and got off clean (yup) And ain’t a thing that these bars do That can make up for the pain of the family of Fermin Arzu They the ones who always put the firearms pon you (on you!) But shoot and say they thought you had a gun up in the car, dude (there’s no gun, no gun) Ousmane Zongo '03, Diallo in like '99 I swear this shit happen like 90 times definitely Definitely happens, like, plenty times But it’s documented, like, 20 times Well, Randolph Evans, well — [Hook/Verse 3] Randolph Evans was 15 in 1976 And a cop did two years for shooting him One time, point blank in the head And thirty years later exactly, on his wedding day Four officers (in Queens) shot 50 bullets And Sean Bell was, uh, dead Veteran detective Oliver, two magazines, no remorse, geez, man! Gescard Isnora Basquiat ‘81, Irony of Negro police, man Back in the day on the train Dap was G’in a Cremaster poster Guyanese cop look like me (speedin’!) Rolled up, plainclothes tucked, gun in the holster Said not to do that. It bugged me out They could look like me, too? Y2K Grand Wizard Giuliani wasn’t done Bad boys, bad boys took Patrick Dorismond Plainclothes asking him where to cop tree Shot him one time and didn’t have to flee Well, yo, it was an accident, see And once again the boys in blue got off scott free (“Well, I’m white, sooo…I own this place?”) No rap? Alberta Spruill was 57 and didn’t leave her home They tossed a concussion grenade into her living room And scared her to death I never felt safer Its bugged out that they're supposed to make you feel safer (“Well, I’m a white cop, so I own this… world?”) Heems awn like em, Radio Raheem don't like em (“Uh, yeah, well, I’m white, soooo…”) And Michael Stewart who do art under the ground Got found and laid down by Eleven white cops that pound -ed him for thirty-two minutes between arrest and delivery (they played with the paperwork!) Alive and barely breathing, to dead in ‘83 Radio Raheem (Spike Lee!) I don’t fuck with cops! Its Heems!