Luyện nghe bài hát Pig Latin

Why do fear what they don't know?
and my rocked to the left, all these dirty looks be gettin me stressed.
Constantly lookin' at me cause my pants swung low
time to dead that.
Testify and get your wrapped like Arabian cats,
terrorist act's will have you squealin at last.
Wayne County full of noxious gas
got three quarters of your massed,
left with only the sense of Touch like Tony.
they out for delph, only to help them self.
The majority of these in blue are phony,
crooked Saint Ides, instead of tryin to save lives
They pull me over talkin about a seatbelt, we all know bullshit,
the fact is I look suspicious, IT!!
Type of kid to corruption,
like crop circles and abductions.
Park toy cop reproductions,
Hunger for equals negative reprocussions.
Get rushed as if I was rushin no discussion,
try and cuff me and a mild concussion.
taken all the stress I can,
peace I'm movin off to foreign lands
where cops don't place narcotics in hands.
Framin just to meet a quota,
searchin' everyone with pants and Moterola's.
Thats why I'm wild with a
to catch 'em when they pull me over,
flip 'em the then I'm ghost in my Toyota.
Won't stop writin til this cease.
Until there to police the police.
I'm sick of all this everyday

Sick of havin visions of black caskets (just because we our pants low)
(Sick of hopelessly watchin my man gettin his ass kicked, sick of being shit is drastic)
And our hats backwards (These is like cancer)
A tumor on our ass (We answers)
For bad manners (And the use of scanners)
So we jottin their numbers (In our pocket planners)
for the day we up (With Jim Shapiro) THE HAMMER!
They got this game that they play, tellin you that you that you done somethin wrong.

Then flash the badge in your face, and you don't even know whats goin' on.
They don't even give you a reasons, clue as to what it is you've done.
(And tell the you reached for heat)
Cops be poppin' confiscated glocks a sack of rocks right under it,
You go for your registration, and then they put your ass to
the funny is, this murders funded by the government.
Yo they'll kill you and put the crack in pocket to make it legal,
Illegally plant the confiscated gat by you in your Regal
and say you shot first, delete you from files its lethal.
of these cops is see through,
that's why we do we do.
why we tell the truth about what police do,
son they'll issue you a right before they beat you.
I'm glad the truth you, hit me mr.officer I dare you,
the rearview, you'll see the camcorder, extended lens too.
You better call for back-up, chew the rest of crack up,
you shook now, and if you swing on me I'm about to fight back.
cause we got you on tape with that girl you and handcuffed.
The man ain't nothin but the klan, but not in they rockin blue and black.
It's a proven fact cops is just white criminals,
they in Crown V's injectin neighborhoods with chemicals.
I'm you, it all makes sense they killed the president,
sniped him out with one shot then out with all the evidence.
I'm speakin relevance, ignorant won't try to hear me
If you kids off the streets give us somethin to do,
cause the truth will make the bug out, like Tim Leary.
of constant harassment and curfew's (COME ON).
Since when did dreadlocks become cause,
totin' a backpack become breakin the law.
Son I'm fed up, so get up, up like Bob told you
and learn some Tai Bo in case try to choke hold you.
I'm sick of all this everyday

(Sick of hopelessly watchin my man gettin his ass kicked, of being called a black bastard)
Sick of havin visions of black (Just because we rock our pants low)
and our hats backwards (These is like cancer)
a on our ass, (we want answers)
So we jottin' their numbers (in our pocket planners)
For the day we up (with Jim Shapiro) THE HAMMER!
for bad (and the use of police scanners)
(Sick of visions of black caskets) Just because we rock our pants low
(I'm of all this everyday harassment)
Sick of hopelessly watchin my man gettin his ass kicked, sick of being followed is drastic
(And our backwards) These cops is like cancer
(A on our ass) We want answers
(for the day we meet up) With Jim Shapiro THE HAMMER!(For bad manners) And the use of police
(So we jottin down their numbers) In our pocket