Coming home Working late Driving tired Asked me where I was going then said I was lying What could I do? From the big bad boys in blue Pulled me real close and then told me Put your hands up High in the air Or we'll shoot You right in ya head Don't speak Not a sound You'll be dead In the ground On the hood Face smashed up like a rat Called for backup, who knows when he'll attack One word, threw me right to the floor He said, don't make me tell you again, boy Don't make me tell you again Put your hands up High in the air Or we'll shoot You right in ya head Don't speak Not a sound You'll be dead Dead in the ground Dead in the ground! You're all a bunch of murderers!