All lives matter but I fear the blacks
Patrol the hood, waiting for the attack
If I’m threatened, I respond with force but I’m
Always afraid so I’m threatened, of course
If they resist, what am I to do?
We’ve all got guns, they prolly do too
Why shoot to incapacitate? if I
Put a bullet in ‘em, they don’t even debate
Don’t act like you’re surprised
When another brother dies
The weight of little white lies
The black hostility
The rain becomes a flood
You’re knee deep in the mud
You can’t bleach out the blood
Your white fragility
Locked and loaded with probable cause
Using discretion to define the law
I’m judge, jury, executioner and
You can file your appeal with the coroner
I don’t care what’s in your hand
I’m not the kinda cop to take a chance
Why put my life on the line when I’ll
Never do time, I won’t even resign.
Oh, Johnny Law,
DId I hurt your pride?
Was it so naive
To demand human rights?
Your badge and your gun don’t make you what you are
And they’re not the fear that shoots kids from cars
Your racism, hatred and ignorant views
All serve to erase any good that you do
Violence begets violence begets violence begets violence
“Hands up, don’t shoot”
Get on the fucking ground
Bad cops who use capital punishment as their primary response to the potential of danger are weak cops and shouldn’t be institutionally protected from the consequences of their misactions. Further, they sully the very honorable and brave policemen and women who put their lives on the line to protect all people, regardless of guilt or innocence, in the name of justice. This song is my response to watching too many undeserved men and women die. Some people in authority would rather bend the truth over backward to justify homicide than admit this culture has a pervasive problem with racism. It’s time to come clean.
Performed and produced by Michael Bird
Words and music by Michael Bird
Cover Photography by Areej Adel