Fuck the Police

[Intro] Ah fuck, not this asshole again (All right, superstar, hands on the steering wheel.) What's the fuckin' problem, man?) (Any drugs or any weapons in the vehicle?) Kind of (I'm Frank Babbit, goddamit; I mean business, punk) I know who you are. Fuck that (I told you boys I got my eyes on you) Yeah, right [Hook] Fuck the police Man, lick these nuts (What did you just say?) Fuck the police (Why you gotta sweat us?) I'll tell you why I'm sweating Fuck the police They say protect and serve, then why the fuck am I handcuffed on the curb? Hey, outta of the car [crosstalk] gun [Verse 1: Daddy X] Well here's another tale from the Subnoize shot callers Put it on the scale and we show you how to clock dollars Banging down the block, got my system on hit Fly ass bitch all over my dick Take another hit of the chronic than I bounce down to Johnny Richter's house so I could score another ounce Well that's the way it is – I'm a Kottonmouth King Rolling through the 'burbs, blowing big smoke rings Cops on my tail; they in hot pursuit I got my 215 but no excuse for the loot I'm holding over 10 Gs, mostly big face bills I got some old warrants and a bottle of pills I gotta think fast, so I'm heading to the pokey I banged a quick left and I ditched Old Smokey Pig flew by, didn't look my way I must be higher than I thought – today's a damned good day [Hook] [Verse 2: The Dirtball] Fuck you – I buy bacon, we don't need it on the streets If a problem crackin' off I sure don't call the police I'm calling snipers in your city code, cops I smell Only trying to make a buck up off us – crooked as hell I smashed on 'em by the simple fact that I'm holding 30 pounds Make my way up into Michigan, smoke it with the clowns You are not dealing with illegal people No longer safe or sound Bullets are flying all over the place And blood is soaking the ground I'm squeezing the hell out of Rugers and Glocks You seeing them flatten their flocks I speeding away and heating the box Beat rocks We play some weed and flip a bitch up in the hurry fashion And who now do I see? It's Violent J, hatchet slashin’ Fuck the police I'm sick of swine in my area Fuck the police Yeah, it's Mr. Dirt Bags Pigs all up in my biz Fuck the police (What did you just call me? All together now: fuck 'em (Fuck me?) They got for sales in my distribution grid (Fuck you, punk ass.) (Dispatch, I got a '78 Cutlass sedan, smoke billowing out. Two Caucasian males with facepaint. A license plate ICP. Run a check please.) [Verse 3: Violent J] Cruising down the street With the big fat hog It's the Duke of the wicked Violent J the Big Dog Drinking Faygo like a madman Yes I do I'm screaming "Fuck the police!" (Fuck you too) Well if I see them lights flash I'm fast to trip With the shoka soogy back flip I fatten that lip Cuz fuck going to the stone bone Is what I say I'd rather bury one of you butt nuggets away I'm a wicked ass clown (with stiffs in the trunk) And when I grip the whip (you can sniff in the funk) Kid, cuz where I'm from it ain't about all that playin' (Nooo!) Now that's what I'm saying (whoop!) I hear the sirens blare My axe in your hair Red mist in the air In the middle of your donut treat is my meat You can quote me now, bitch, cuz I'm so sweet (Fuck the police) I'm trying to roll this blunt (Yeah, I'm gonna roll your clown ass) (Fuck the police) What the fuck you want? (Is that a hatchet in the back seat?) (Fuck the police) Yeah, it's all fun and games 'Til I saw your face off and choke your brains (Yeah, looks like I got myself a little Richter here) What's your fuckin' problem, man? (Get out of the car, asswipe. I thought I told you I didn't want to see you) Why'd you even pull me over? (Yeah, some people never learn. Hey if you run I'm pulling steel!) Man, fuck you motherfucker! [Verse 4: Johnny Richter] Man I just hate it when I start the blaze and see the blue and red behind my head Now they're harassing me, asking me where I'm going, where I've been There's people passing me laughing and now I'm starting to get upset Why you harassing me, pig? Yeah, I gotta fuck you for the boys in blue And all the undercovers, yeah, fuck you too Got a big old bowl of fuck you soup And if yous fuck gonna catch you soon Keep your mouth shut About my stash and grow room or we might have to hunt you down Touch tomb, desert for a dunes doom Trying to fuck the police ones with real big boo, boo, boobs [Verse 5: D-Loc] Yeah, fuck the police That's become a straight from the leg (you know) Up on the hill you know we puffing on the dank And taking on the fakes is what we do We shuckin' rocks, you know, at your crew We drink and brew, you know we getting tattoo We killing sex in the afternoon And talk about me (what?) Talk about who (you know) Get this popo out his blue (Fuck the police) Y'all make me sick (Fuck the police) Y'all can suck my dick (Fuck the police) I want some weed shit I'm saying fuck the police Coming straight from J Rich