Company Flow - Protective Custody Lyrics
{dante of (mood)}Yo, move recite chaptersRappers write scripts for actorsDont rap about the facts, till they attack the catchHandcuff the shackel, stand up get tackledThe featers of your leaders heaters on their adams appleKeep quiet, be silent the sphere no weak vibeWe defy, a new in it root, for street wiseGot to stop it, and taxes for guns, wars and wackersPuttin prophets in their pocketsAnd lock it till I promise{dante & main flow (of mood)}Mf: they stoled knots, hold spots, trapped in the road blockDt: we globetrot, we roll pop, running from old copsMf: the whole shots, cold plots, babylons gold potDt: loan glocks, cold shots, set off like we sold rocks{main flow (of mood)}We dealing with narcs and casesDeaths over parking spacesEvil hearts are races, or higher dark placesBrutality on mark faces, car chasesIncarceration, unite so we can spark the nation{nine}You got the right to remain silent and at the same timeYou got the right to remain violent and aim ninesThey got no love for, just slugs for youWho want it? I fight back like a rat when he corneredCatch me at the light, windows tinted, 35 percentBreakin ya neck, to see whos in itWhat is my intent? trying to live, without the nonsenseYou dying to give{tiye phoenix}Yo yo, the spokesqueen, number one tiye phonenixThe black venus demaloDopper then tae bo, every man, woman and child knowWe unified force against the shooters of dialloAnd now there sure to lose like luther at the apolloFor amistad to amadou, attacked in these streetsThe term cop really stands for cappin our peepsThey shot a 40 round, are brother got slaughtered downWe push thru the border now, jahad hold it born down{brezzly brewn (of the juggaknots)}You wanna be a *****in accident, the beast was barkinYou wanna know how many accidents to rob a new yorker?And the possible attrocity,Millimeters from the kids set the glockWith a ferocity, seemin as its inbreadWhile I stated innocent, but stressing itYou sure that it was decolit,It could of been an isolated incidentNothing was found, no hard feelings I fight bad guysStrutting around like keith christ huttin the siteAirtime{talib kweli}This goes out to mcs who used to rock in washington square parkNow guiliani got it locked after dark, so he mastered the artOf livin the death, shadow is a, nuff of a battleTo dodge the police,And have to rise above the trap of the barrelMy people spill blood in the streetsIm never running from beastCan I get a response from all the revolutionaries in this piece?(yeah!!)What up, cuz of the way we think they want to incarcerate usThey think time will break us, but time wont break us{punchline}I rock a vest even when I take shots to the ballsThe type that write the word police on a unmarked carI resent you, gettin off easy if they suspend youI end you, hope they use your own gun against youIts all mental, my man died in the streetsIm pouring out liquor, until theres nuthin to drinkThats how many cats died, slaid by the beastThat night, 5-0 held caught in the streets*scratching by el p & mr. len of company flow*{el-p}Petrofied little venomist, school yard outcastsFrom disfunctional world of redneck garbageCommunity ***** out, seekin power overConfiscate from miniscule shit courtAnd repress sexual activity style,Need of location when standingSpliff of the semi-retarted, or pro defensiveSpontaneous violence and compasive lyingPackage dukes that has a lunchbox with a glockAnd ku klux decoder ringWho sing kumbaya to the tune of a man dying{jah-born (of medina green)}Yall seen the front page? another black man slayedBy the beast hit with a rain, or 4 glocks got sprayedHey giuliani, was 41 shots necessary?Now my peoples got to worry, bout the cops that be killin meJustice? all I see is just usGettin knocked locked and bust, without a word discussedNypd, should be nypigI dont deal with the swine, dont want swine dealin with me{what? what? }These shot happy mother*****ers legally ready to blazeWith raised triggas and *****ed back with plans to fake figgasWho black and innocent, ***** it lets get militantRun up in the precint, strapped with gatsWith full clips loaded, aimed at there headsStay in the feds, double 20 plus one round to blood redRevenge, we must return to avenge my brother, we comingThe first sister holdin the lead{john forte}El capitano keep my guns highI run from new york cuz Im alumniThe fact Im in it, half street, half academicI memorize my stash number, the flash numberYa pig stinch, plus your badge numberYa precinct, and the irish lad you served underIm probaly grinding drugs, come from hittin the kitchenA black man in a pretty car will fit the descriptionYou gettin informed quickYou racist *****, I was born in it{mr. khaliyl}I seen it happen before, and it could happen againYou on a block mine on your own and then you let by your friendsCuz they aint down to scrap, just wanna ride in your benzBut when the cops is on the beat, thats when the party beginsLike a karate picture, the way the mop the floor with yaAll caught up in the heat, not a doctor can stitch youNobody movin with you, cuz you really aint bout itNow theres fear in your heart, and theres blood in your mouthIts like something we never seen beforeIts almost like we dreamed it allLive or die, either or, my blood is what they fiending forMy peoples screamin for the justice we deserveSet 41 back, we leaving 22 in the curb*more scratching*
