Handcuffs

""Okay kid. Say what you gotta say."

[Handcuffs click]

"Know what I'm sayin? You know, some niggas really out there bad, some niggas is forced in positions where they gotta do things where they don't wanna do it. Some niggas forced to dope--sell dope, some niggas forced to pimp... But you got some niggas out there that's just lazy, they ain't forced to do nothin, they got other options, they just choose not to do 'em"

Sittin',
In the back of the police car position,
Your mission is forgettin',
And denying the existence,
Thinkin' of different ways to keep from submittin',
And continuin' to not to mention,
Like that
Grand Marquis, Police Interceptor Edition,
With the wall so you can barely fit in,
Knees is touchin' the front seat,
Shiftin'
'Cause your handcuffs is cuttin' your wrists and,
You wishin',
That he would "Drive faster, please!",
But he slows through the hood as he drives past the free,
It's cool, but you're trippin,
The quicker you get there,
The quicker you sit there,
Cuffed to a bench, and
They're playin' 'Good Cop, Bad Cop,'
and one of them pretendin',
So you rewind yourself,
To your uneasy recline in the back of the police car,
Handcuffed in a seatbelt,
Naw,
You ain't gotta quicken the pace,
That just give me more time to sit and erase,
Alibi and alias,
switch and replace,
Think about, then,
Forget about an escape,
Thank God that I'm up in the states,
'Cause if I was in Russia,
Who knows how they'd do a hustler,
Wait,
I ain't a hustla, I'm straight,
I'm damn near a busta,
No laws I break,
Money I never seen,
Guns I didn't hold,
Drugs I never sold,
Calls I didn't make,
Nigga, this is a waste,
Of your time and mine,
And with that, I'm comfortable,
I'm fine,
A case, this ain't even a find,
You ain't find nothin', homie,
not even a dime,
Not even a dime, that'd drop dime on me,
I know you was down, so you put a dime on me,
I know that's a crime, you 'posed to fight crime fo' me,
Protect and to serve,
Prosecute, correct, and return to the homies,
And that's gon' send 'em direct to the curb,
So you can put 'em back on me.

"You know, don't get me wrong, some people ain't got no options. Their surroundings and their environment and the way that society works on things, actually forces them, and directs them, to the point where they ain't got no options. So they gotta go out there and carry guns, and they carry guns to protect the dope, and the dope make the money."

Sittin',
In the front of the police car position,
His mission is bendin',
Pinnin' charges on niggas,
Even if they didn't,
He's sittin' in court,
Lyin',
Testifyin' against defendants,
Like that,
And he love to choke niggas,
He don't trip with the rich,
He just like the broke niggas,
Probably did more dirt in the street than most niggas,
Even the old people don't like him,
'Cause of the way he approach niggas
Nigga,
You ain't no better than me,
Just a hustler with a badge,
Confiscate the dope money,
Put it with your retirement boat money,
You ain't buildin' no playgrounds,
Hittin' the poor for some cash,
That ain't a pension,
That's a shoebox stash,
With a glock to protect it,
We both undercover,
Check it,
Thinkin' that the good we do,
Gon' outweigh the sinnin' that we do to collect it,
Sayin' "It's for the community,"
They don't value us,
Only around 'cause the property value up,
And they gotta 'clean the streets,'
Before they put the houses up,
Knock them section eights down,
Put them two hundred thousands up,
Feel he don't get paid enough,
To kick in doors, raid and cuff,
So he use what niggas get on the streets,
To supplement the wages cut,
So he gotta keep just enough niggas,
Out there hustlin' to keep his paper up,
Like that...
Maybe he should be in them handcuffs...