Nick Fine$$e - The Hunt Is On

They coming to get you, they coming to get you
The boys in blue, they coming to get you
They coming to get you, they coming to get you
Tick, tick, tick, boom, click, clack, pow
They coming to get you, they coming to get you
The boys in blue, they coming to get you
They coming to get you, they coming to get you
Tick, tick, tick, boom, click, clack, pow
It’s hella coppers they roaming ‘round in them helicopters
They lined up on the streets, toting the ch-ch-choppers
Aiming at the protesters, won’t aim it at a molester
Act up get sat down, police want to fucking test us
Hands up no resisting, still wanting to arrest us
Fuck’em all, leave a hundred dead and deceased
Navy blue turned burgundy, leave them dead in the streets
How many times I got to say it, I can’t stand the police
I’m a human they view me as just an animal beast
I bet you the white cops bet on who gone shoot a nigga first
Whoever pop the other cops got to go escort the hearse
I could be wrong but I ain’t off for assuming
Could’ve been a Harvard student but I chose to do music
Had to write the soundtrack for this new revolution
And it will be televised
Politicians telling lies
If you want to see some pain, looking into my fucking eyes
They coming to get you, they coming to get you
The boys in blue, they coming to get you
They coming to get you, they coming to get you
Tick, tick, tick, boom, click, clack, pow
They coming to get you, they coming to get you
The boys in blue, they coming to get you
They coming to get you, they coming to get you
Tick, tick, tick, boom, click, clack, pow
Shout out to everybody that’s on that front line
Shout out to everybody that’s locked doing time
Shout out to everybody that’s making a change
Shout out to everybody that’s going against the grain
Fuck the mainstream media, my city is great
Can’t believe everything that FOX 32 say
Fuck they newscasters, fuck they reporters
They don’t even want to help us, they just want to record us
They don’t know what’s going on
They just going right along
Reading off they teleprompter then they going right home
They can’t pronounce our names or our hoods so what’s the deal
Making money off our bloodshed, don’t tell me how the fuck to feel
I was on FOX one time, I shouldn’t have did the shit
But my bosses needed a poster boy for they benefit
Overly dedicated, underappreciated
When you gonna figure out that Chicago ain’t to be played with
They coming to get you, they coming to get you
The boys in blue, they coming to get you
They coming to get you, they coming to get you
Tick, tick, tick, boom, click, clack, pow
They coming to get you, they coming to get you
The boys in blue, they coming to get you
They coming to get you, they coming to get you
Tick, tick, tick, boom, click, clack, pow

Written by:
Nicholas Stroud

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

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