Dear Editor,
Won’t ya come on listen to me?
Won’t ya, won’t ya come listen to this rhyme with me?
I walk down these streets in Hathian and this is what I see:
I see people locked up for looking suspicious
What’s with these fucking pigs? Look at all the blood they shed,
They sitting on their asses, feeding their faces and blowing up like fat bitches,
Never one around when ya need them,
They lock ya up for wearing the colors of ya brothers, of ya sisters,
Even though you ain’t done a damn thing.
What happened to innocent before being proved guilty?
I defend myself on the street and I get locked up till 3:50.
Stoneage, raping all the girls,
I wonder what would happen if he got locked up with me?
I’d have his punk ass down on his knees,
I’d have him bent over and crying and calling him my bitch,
I wonder how he’d feel if someone made him squeal like a girl.
It’s a shame when ya gotta hide ya sisters, hide ya daughters,
Hide mother, ya aunts and all them too.
If Hathian don’t get this clown,
All I got to say is it’s going down.
~ Just a Concerned Nigga
