A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Devin The Dude

"Crooked Officer"

Pigs dying from bullet wounds to the chest

[Verse 1: Scarface]
I'm sick of you hoes trying to run mine
I'm coming with a gun line running after one time
I got a grudge against you blue suits
Black suits, white suits and state troops
That's the way you made us
Send a n*gga to the penitentiary is how you play us
Lock us up for the summer
Took the n*gga's name away and passed his ass a number
Just because you legally pack a gat man
Doesn't necessarily mean you have to point it at the Black man
Especially you Black cops, you let your gats pop
Because them Honkies got you brainwashed
So now we come to new dealings
f*ck all the dumb sh*t
The line of work is cap peelings
I'm cutting sh*t short
Ain't no filling out reports
Cause you ain't making it to court
I'm letting freedom ring
From the hole in my Glock, for f*ckin off Rodney King
It ain't nothing you can ask us
And since justice is blind
I'mma buy the b*tch some glasses
Wake the f*ck up, chucks
I'm coming after your ass
Crooked officer

[Refrain: Big Mike]
Mr. Officer, crooked officer
I wanna put your ass in a coffin, sir
Cause you done f*cked with n*ggas like myself for too long
It's time to grab my motherf*cking nine and get it on

[Verse 2: Bushwick Bill ]
Oh Mr. Officer, crooked officer, what's happenin?
You beat another black man's ass and now you're high cappin
Friend, do I have to move to River Oaks
And bleach my f*ckin skin so I can look like these white folks?
Just to get some assistance
Because the brutality in my neighborhood is gettin persistent
Cause you wanna harass me
Yeah, and if I talk back you wanna bust my black ass, G
Just like Rodney King
But if you try that sh*t with me, its gonna be a different scene
Try to pull me over on a dark road
But I'll be damned if I don't grab my nine and unload
Until every blue shirt turns red
You heard what I said
I want all you crooked motherf*ckers dead
So you better start pickin out your coffin, sir
Cause I'm comin after your ass...

Hook: Big Mike

[VERSE 3: Big Mike]
Momma called me up the other day, I got a warrant
Punk ass laws wanna know where the gun went
Said I shot a n*gga the other night at a party
Lyin out they ass, I was at home drinkin 40s
Coolin with my n*ggas playin dominoes in the kitchen
A big black n*gga did the killin and I fit the description
Yeah, and you know they think all black n*ggas look alike
So now they got the flashlight lookin for Big Mike
Jackin n*ggas up tryin to capture me
Coppers wanna gaffle me
Tryin to put bullets into the back of me
Time and time again I told them I didn't do it
And they knew it, but they still pursued it
So them motherf*ckers blew it
So now I'm about to grab my sh*t
And put them son of a b*tches six feet under
Cause I'm sick of runnin from them motherf*ckers
Turnin tables cause I'm able, I ain't fallin victim
Time to play a game, see the police, watch me stick 'em
Cause I ain't runnin from a p-o-l-i-c-e
Any motherf*ckin t-i-m-e
They'll have to g-e-t me
Off the s-e-t in my h-double o-d
f*ckin around with the B-i-g
They'll be in a g-r-a-v-e

Hook: Big Mike

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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