[Richard Pryor:] The cops used to come around in my neighborhood, "Alright, you kids, stop having so much fun, move along!" Oh, they'd arrest me, you know, especially at night. They had a curfew, niggas had to be home at 11, negros, 12. And you'd be trying to get home, doing your crew runs, and they'd always catch you out in front of a store or something 'cause you'd be taking shortcuts, right? Cops, "Ree, put your hands up, black boy!" [Refrain: Slick Rick] The cops shot the kid. [Verse 1: Nas] I don't wanna hurt nobody, We just came here to party, See a few dames, exchange some names, I'm a top shotta, kid, stay in your lane. The cop shot the kid, same old scene, Pour out a little liquor, champagne for pain. Slap-boxin' in the street, Crack the hydrant in the heat, Cop cars on the creep, Doin' they round-ups, we just watch for the sweep. Yeah, it's hotter than July, It's the summer when niggas die, It's the summer when niggas ride, Together we'll be strong, but forever we divide. So y'all are blowin' my high, Type of shit that's killin' my vibe. White kids are brought in alive, Black kids get hit with like five. Get scared, you panic, you're goin' down, The disadvantages of the brown. How in the hell the parents gon' bury their own kids, Not the other way around? Reminds me of Emmett Till, Let's remind 'em why Kap kneels. [Refrain: Slick Rick] The cops shot the kid. I still hear him scream. [Verse 2: Kanye West] Stay tuned up and down your timeline, This fake news, people is all lyin', Money is bein' made when a mom cries, Won't be satisfied 'til we all die. Tell me, who do we call to report crime If 911 doin' the drive-by? It's certain things I can't abide by, I ain't bein' extreme, this is my side, Talkin' big shit, ready to die, I know every story got two sides. Claimin' he paranoid by the black guy, Cop wanna make it home by nighttime, Just a good kid, he wasn't that guy, Had a little hit, he wasn't that high, Cop gon' claim that it was self-defense, Say he was ridin' dirty so the case rests. Workin' nine-to-five Tryna stay alive, Makin' ends meet, Shot him this week. [Refrain: Slick Rick] The cops shot the kid. I still hear him scream.
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