Gun Fight

[Verse 1 Metro] Hate me cause you ain't me Thug with a badge I won't budge Minding my business No I'm not selling drugs "Sir you fit the description of a fool It wasn't you, well then it could've been your brother wordup" So what you saying? "Look kid, I'm just doing my job Neighbors complaining bout a crime and claiming you was involved" It wasn't me! "Still I'm gonna need 3 forms of I.D." My temperature's rising, so now they're testing for sobriety Why! "Why are you sweating if you're innocent? Only the guilty work the prison ship Something to hide? Run a 50 on his identity They'll cut him inside And let the animals cancel each other out, that's how we handle 'em right Mr. Lawson, you've got warrants Outstanding ones" Said it with a smirk then cocked back his handgun! [Verse 2 Mr. Lif] Lorenzo Doby now let's bring it back to Rodney Cops ain't sorry to them it's more like a safari Their viewing us as 3/5 human, so their guns boomin' Death is looming ain't no punishment pursuing Them cops got off scott free it doesn't shock me Until they use their tazer to shock me They use "Freeze Plus" to seize us dogs and leave us in dark alleys Protest, they beat you at rallies Families won't recover from loss of a brother, mother, sister, or father It's outright slaughter Emancipation Proclamation Just some documentation to rock you to sleep knowing your cell is waiting This nation is a plantation The government is slave master Police are trained to gather slaves faster Ask them brothers down in Alabama They brought the chain gangs back in '95 Slavery's alive! Housing crisis, oil crisis Low pay and high prices As the desperation rises They'll be ready to fight us with shields and snipers They'll kill your kid in diapers They'll murder anybody like us! [Verse 3 {Lif} and (Metro)] {41 shots. 50 shots. 81 shots Leaving brothers in burial plots. We rot.} (They've got a million of us locked and gunning for a million and two That's me and you but this is where the buck stops.) {Lots of us don't get a chance to advance like your kids You've got our Pops doing long bids} (Solitary confinement) {Mind out of alignment And when we get out} (There'll be no chance for refinement) {Jobs ain't hiring} (Such a hostile environment Doing short bids that turn into long stretches For fighting off killers that's coming with sharp weapons) {Guards ain't helping} (They only pick up where the pigs left us Karate kick you in the intestines) (I'm learning big lessons, on how to thug as a profession They want 12 percent of all Blacks in jail by 2010) {The future's looking pretty grim} (Once again I'm stressing us learning our rights It's looking like, we're headed for a gun fight!!)