Artist: Timbo King f/ Young Brooklyn Album: 56 Platoon, Vol. 2: Chain of Command Song: Fuck the Police Typed by: Tha Masta [Intro: Timbo King] Yeah yeah yeah... yo... We shoot the police like... Kill the feds like... Yeah snipers gon' snipe 'em Pop the mayor like... Yeah yeah... hit the president up like... Stab preachers in his chest like... Straight from the hood book, the hood book What y'all got? What you got? Bloody city, bloody city, father forgive Pressure poor, y'all wanna pressure poor right? Uproar, uproar, vote! (Fort Knox) Yeah, it's on, let's go! Yo yo... [Timbo King] CO's catchin' buck fifties right in their dome On some Larry Davis shoot 'em up, bang on po-po The spooks that sat by the door with SK's Runnin' up in city hall... Bloomberg, where that money for the ghettoes at? More parks plus schools, let's get to the facts Settle the facts, got guns from Habib that'll blow up buildings And our mission ain't complete 'til we save all the children Tonto, yeah Indian spear In the end we could end ya career Black Market, 56, freedom or death School of the gifted, the only one's left is loadin' the techs The womb been entombed with the Sun and the moon Pops drunk Jack Daniel's as he sat in the room Black love Curtis May made a future shop Lick shots, two shots, lick shots... [Young Brooklyn] Yo yo yo... Where I come from niggaz bust dum-dums Out of automatics that'll dead all ya static Extra clip for that extra havoc Hot steel burnin' like hot acid I'm done playin' As soon as I see the target my gun's sprayin' Niggaz asses is lame so I blast 'em with flames Tryin' to master this thing, I'm countin' cash in this game Boy, I interrupt ya session Tell them silly niggaz, stop guessin' And Big Willie niggaz start bettin' We hold weight like sumo wrestlers So when we come through, who gon' test us? Lick shots from cocked berettas At anybody tryin' to stop the chedder Boy, I catch you at 9:45 Then I hit you with the nine and the .45 Niggaz is 7:30 Bustin' off my gun like James Worthy Nigga, aiyo I stay dirty Aiyo my team too real, stay far from the lames Only fuck with dime bitches that be lovin' the brain I keep it cool like the ice on my chain Yeah, I keep it cool like the ice on my chain Yo, cuz when I pop off niggaz get knocked off My shit is hot in The Source Tell the coroners to get the white floss They can't describe the way their body's a corpse I'm a thug from the lost and found I smoke a twenty that I lost, I found So watch ya mouth when the boss around Niggaz gettin' lost and found Cash is a must, I'm addin' it up Pass me a Dutch, we rollin' on twenties So the Spreewell spinnin' and it's only the beginnin' [Outro: Timbo King] Yeah yeah yeah... yo... We shoot the police like... Kill the feds like... Pops the mayors like... Hit the president up like... Stab Tony Blair in his chest like... Straight from the hood book... Bo King, Young Brook, 56, 56...