Chorus](8X) "Police be clocking me" -> KRS-One - Hip Hop vs Rap
[Verse 1] I make wax, I pay tax, I don't show cracks Something to kick back, you callin' on dispatch The deal you'd did with a dealer you the distel Took Gladys from his box now he's burried in the system You see me comin' out of my building All types of days and nights, wondering if I got a nine to five Those I always do, so you cry I spy A flashin' goes smile, you in the corner of my eye Walkin' I feel the hawk over right the side It's over from the act, lyricist start to walk live Shop lift or what, then I start to jog Hearin' speed accelerated from the J-8's car The sirens sound violent they expect more not ready I'm on the stoop my man named Little Eddy we started laughing He's nextdoor from me, is a house that has traffic like drugs are free But I'm a new face in a new place of a melon race Gets black in 'em makes a good fellon case And that's not so and I get mad cause everywhere I go Long as I'm dark walkin clarks in my village tho
"Police be clocking me" -> KRS-One - Hip Hop vs Rap (8X)
[Verse 2] They clocking, shocking and knocking me Wantin' a reason for whocking me But I ain't committin' no crime Soon as they stoppin me O.C. roll if a dolo went solo Cop car come screechin in my presence in a second yellin "Freeze!" I'm scared how can I stop hopped over a fence Runnin' frantic sendin' O.C. into a panic I 'fused to be rock me hardly you won't scar me beatin' me down Yellin' smellin old and coffee sender Fuckin' hard, but soft to a stick Some cops are cool and some are just downright dicks You won't in 68 me in a choke hole, death mockin' me So for that even my dousin keep clockin me Check my abdominal check how I'm fashion Nice sticks if you don't had the same type of fashion Two blocks behind me two jakes who want blue and white Pair glocks equals 32 shots I think not
"Police be clocking me" -> KRS-One - Hip Hop vs Rap (8X)
[Verse 3] What for!? Is it my B-Boy presence mixed with mature Is it the way Stone and me comb the city in a Benz Legitimate plus without ends Paperwork was right, we sat aside a red light Givin' dirty looks, I guess assumin' we were crooks Scopin' the car, tags of the par, rims shinin' in ya face With the tires all along and I dig it All young is my complection been through gettin' stress So I know you understand what I manifest A friend of me, uncool, that squares a black cop Jones All crooked with fat rides and homes Watch your own BB with the APP on your side And corrupt cats corriscatin on the margin Next time read me my rights check out the snipes Look behind ya on the wall sucker I rocks mics
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