I got into the job to stop violence.
Three weeks in I learned I fucking loved it.
Stopping and frisking's the most play I’ll get all day.
That's just the way it goes.

Lining's not silver, it's blue
and gold and red and black.
You've got no hope to resist,
you’ve got no grounds to attack.
You look so pretty with your larynx on the pavement.

You wanted out? I'll make you want it more.

I was a kid when I watched them take my city.
That was the day I burned all my heroes.
Watching the plastic and rubber go, like lovers scorned...

You’re on the sidewalk,
Turning blue.
Ready or not,
I can see through all the cracks I’ve split in you.
That’s just how I do.

Sipping styrofoam and coffee in the fluorescence,
making the make believe talk with wimpy egoes:
They’re singing the manifest songs, like Mao tap dancing on bones
They wanted out? They make want to hurl.

And then the room was punctured with the presence,
united under a light, under obsolescence,
they raised their hands up high
and to the roof they sang:

"We want out. We didn't ASK FOR MORE.
"WE WANT OUT. WE WANT OUT.
“That's enough."

They want out? That's what they said,
they want out? That's for sure!
And when I'm done, they'll want it even more.
They want out, (well I’ve got the gun and) that's for sure.
We'll put ‘em down. That's enough.