In this nation of tanks
Focused on the torsos of innocent
Citizens who see freedom and liberty as synonyms
White, black, red, yellow these colors bleed into one
But first the man must bleed from the armored man who holds the gun
Given orders, strapped to the toe with weaponry
Orders given to control the crowd, he hears control the color
Lead or rubber doesn't matter to the skull of a toddler
Or teacher, the system pays from preying on the weaker
This country tis of thee, I question is it tis of thou
Any moving being with a pigment that isnt brown
Gangster, hooligan, fool, loiterer, thug
These words stick to the man like he sticks to his gun
And his hoodie,nice shoes, moves with nothing to lose
So you let the blood splatter on your badge and as you cover up every clue
Of your stereotype, your quota that needs to be filled,
Your late night patrolling
Patrol the skin remove any white from the stain
Color
Officers' skin tanned with the blood of the innocent
Minds who see the word equality to still hold significance
In America
Land if the free-wielding police