Christopher Farrell

I'm armed like the cops when they ride,
they want me dead on both sides,
I don't know where to hide.

The News wants you to think lyrical homicide,
I wonder who lied? 
When they say the kids a killer,
then cut the scene when the mother cried, 
so no one can feel her.

Uncle Sam can kill us all, 
but he'll never take our pride.

When I'm gone, 

someone spray

paint my name on

the wall, we were

raised from the bottom, 

so you're never see us fall.

How can the kids in ghetto ever grow, 
when we try to stand tall, 
they kick us down

to the ground 
 

and make us crawl.

Scared to make a sound, 
probably end up down town,
getting charged with a pound,
locked away for life,
even though the evidence was never (f#und).

Stressing with the strive, strive because I'm stressing,
the cops put my family I(b)I(e)I(h)I(i)I(n)I(d)I bars, 
so why would I call 911 for protection.

Theres crooked cops, and cops that follow the laws,
please don't get it twisted, I don't hate all y'all,
I'm just speaking from the things I saw,
people I love end up with brok-n bones,
without a cause.

Got no love for dealers $elling $tones, 
br-aking down happy homes,
while there's lil kids crying when they hear their stomach and it groans.

I think I'll start speaking through a microphone, 
"it's on, 
you're gonna see,

you won't take 

1. my freedom, 
2. guns, 
3. religion, 
4. or equality."

I speak the problems of the people,
so best believe you better start solving me.