MIke was beat cop, neighborhood street walked
Grew up where he worked like the leaves in the treetops
Moved in silence, avoided most violence,3 square meals went home and closed his eyelids
No glamour.Paperwork and planners. Settling disputes.Arguments and scammers
Chronicled disturbance, comical to urgent
Gotta build trust when you're seen as a burden
Lot on your mind Like a sikh with a turban
Play it cool and watch your wording
Hyundai on 18th, dude’s straight swerving
Hand on his weapon. He can never be certain
Lights Flashed. Pull over in the bike path
Counts his lucky blessings and he’s hoping it’s the right math
Clean front seat but he acting kinda weird
Calm and collected with a little bit of fear
Pop the trunk, four decades full of junk, he’ll be filling out forms in his office for a month
What happened next? Kinda fucked up
Two plain clothes show up in a truck
Broken Spanish
“Pretend this didn’t happen.You're a good cop. Regards to Captain Hammond”
They closed it up and everybody vanished
Went home. Cursed in the basement
Case closed
No official statements
Welcome to America
Young dumb and vacant
When you fear for your life then you know that you made it.
Officer Sampson, started out handsome
Clean cut cadet, Honor Roll grandson
Volunteering time, Whenever he had some
Figured hard work paid off like a ransom
But He was wrong as the day is long
Money played a part and he played along
Learning numbers like the lyrics to your favorite song
Wearing wires like a pigeon at his favorite pond
Rotting generations when you playing God
Got em kneeling on the floor like you training dogs
Pretty ironic cause he paid to bark
Puzzled às the piece as it plays it's part
People's big flaws, Resembles the laws
Smoking camels in the back on his final straw
A room full of doom a closet full of skeletons
The blue code of silence can be so deafening
Starts the truck pops another sedative
Intervenes a traffic stop trunk full of pure
Hand on his weapon he can never be sure
Broken Spanish he needed the practice
Jumped in the ride and everybody vanished
Went home counted money in the basement
Case closed, no official statements
Welcome to America
Young dumb and vacant
When you fear for your life
You know you've made it
Case closed No official statements
Welcome to America
Young dumb and vacant
Made in America
Don’t flinch
Dangerous colors
Stop N frisk
And even if behaving
They put you on the pavement
Dirt on your face
Making racist statements
Stay calm
Weapon in your face
Funny how the lead
Could get you erased
And resisting to death
Could put you away
And even open carry
Get you croaked like canaries
County if you lucky, Homan Square where you buried
They put in you in cage at the earliest age
Using anger and violence for freedom delays
Clear as white wine
School to Prison pipelines
Systems of profit for rich ass white guys
Judges, sheriffs, well paid senators
Hillary Clinton coined super predator and now she want the trust back
How bout fuck that
Never copy answers from the kid with dunce cap
I’m not in the business of shitting out fun rap
My music is alarming like the ring of a gun clap
Believing aint hard asked the sodomized guard
Walks around with scars so vivid and large
Does he believe a God that let them keep their jobs?
Ignored his cries when he begged them to stop
The money paid to mask it Is coming out your taxes
Systematic violence is there to relax them
It could be your last name color or accent
People you know cr religion you practice
The look of shock, When you shot like an actress
Body in the street like a discarded mattress
Plenty of answers, nobody asked us
Can I get some action?
From the back section?
We need body rocking, not perfection
Flame on , I’m gone
Signed Bob Rok
Motherfuckers
ROCK ON!
credits
released February 17, 2020
Track Art by Latterhalves
