T-Mix - In The Line of Duty lyrics

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T-Mix - In The Line of Duty lyrics

[Verse 1: MJG] Listen officer, I know I got a traffic warrant But your wife got three, so where the f** is she? You don't know, so you bring your personal Problems back to your job And every damn day you make it hard You can't understand When you see a black man Rollin in a new ride Gotta pull him over and Gotta check the inside Hell, who in the f** do you claim to be? My help or my hurt, 'cause you ain't did sh** for me See, every time I rolls Every time I walks Every time I breathes and every time I talks I'm always being heard, or either being watched By scary a** white folks or crooked a** cops They coming, they searching They pat me on my abs The sons of a slave on a (?) from the path I laughs, knowing that these fellas must be jealous They want our autographs but they don't know how to tell us It's crazy the way you treat my kind You call this your job? The system must've brainwashed your mind I really resent the rues a cop would use within a day So if you talking that sh**, it's in my duty to blow you away [Commentary: MJG] Punk a**, rookie a** Sissy a** mu'f**in' police Always in a mu'f**a's sh** Just got out the muf**in' academy [Verse 2: Eightball] I'm supposed to love America But America don't love me A son of a slave of the father of this country Freedom wasn't meant to be a luxury for you and I Freedom came after many influential people died In vein, it seems Ain't a whole lot changed They still cracking whips and shackling up n***as mayne Projects ain't nothing but modern day plantations And the masters reside at the police stations Replacing whips with berettas and clips on they hips Quick to gang up on young brothas who make that grip I used to think that stacking papers would eliminate Lack of p**y to f**ing police that player hate I found out that a b**h is gonna be a b**h And the police could give a f** that a n***a's rich Ol' white men from the days of the cotton pickers Who used to ride around on pickup trucks lynching n***as They them same peckerwoods acting like a hoe When they see a n***a moving in next door In front of my own home rough me up and hara** me And say you did it all in the line of duty [Commentary: Eightball] Coward a** police Busters hiding behind a badge All in a n***a's face 'Cause you can be strapped I can be strapped too, hoe Running with your gang I'm running with my gang, b**h You know what I'm saying? You better step off this pimp sh**, hoe [Verse 3: MJG] Here come the motherf**ing plain clothes Riding low-pro In a fo' do', 95 Caprice Trademark of the police Each and every damn n***a Wetback and (?) Need to recognize before your mu'f**in' ship sank I don't think these laws got no love for minorities This is how I know it be so f** the majority Pick em' out, one by one Shoot em' down with my gun Take em' to the woods, no mistake Concrete shoes in the lake I hate player hating perpetrating cops The nerds of the school wanna run my f**ing block You wanna know my name, well trick it's MJG So miss me with that sh**, (?) you's a BC What in the f** do you expect to gain Constantly pulling me over Constantly throwing your salt into my game You lame, weak busters, can't do me Especially when you're out or even in the line of duty [Verse 4: Eightball] I ain't taking it Police hating the sh** I represent Street sense, Glock totin' Ripping pigs chests open Hating them like they hating me, soon as they see Another colored brotha flapping in some luxury All in my a** with some gloves looking for some d** Dogs sniff my balls, hell naw it ain't no love Catch you slipping on your off day and spray your a** Into the past as fire up one and hit the gas I never did it but them busters make me wanna do it Pull out the tech in a sec and leave em in the street wet But that won't solve nothing All that'll do is get me time So I choose to write this rhyme and diss them hoes in every line Sometimes, my mind wonders would the world be shocked If we all did like Pac and bust at cops when we got stopped Bet you sh** would straiten up and start flying right b**h, it's judgement night In the line of duty [Commentary: MJG] What the f** y'all punk motherf**ers looking for? What the f** do you see? sh** A goddamn thing Talkin' bout what the f** you smell It ain't here b**h, you can't prove sh** Leave me the f** alone, goddamn it Is my tags out of date, hoe? Hell naw, goddamn it Do I got a motherf**ing traffic warrant? f** naw Am I on your motherf**ing warrant list? Naw, b**h So why the f** you all up in my motherf**ing sh**, goddamn it? I can't help it because your motherf**ing wife's p**y ain't hitting right, goddamn it I can't help it because your son made straight F's, goddamn it I ain't got sh** to do with that sh**, goddamn it I can't help it because you ain't paid the mortgage yet, b**h You ain't got to put that sh** out on me, hoe I ain't got no record goddamn it I ain't been to jail, you giving me motherf**ing hell, hoe Get out my sh**, stay out my sh**