The uniforms they wear make them feel so important.
Itchy fingers on the trigger,
guns of hatred pointed.
At another brother who did nothing,
yet must suffer the violence, the hatred,
just to make
a small-minded man
look bigger than he was born to be.
Guilty as charged.
Guilty of the death, the destruction they bring
upon the African people.
Racial profiling,
pulling over with evil
intent.
Asking questions,
planting evidence,
just
to make the handcuffs happen.
They hide their hatred behind badges of nicotine.
Leaving children orphaned,
swelling prison numbers.
And sometimes filling graves in the cemetery.
Guilty,
yes, guilty.
Guilty,
guilty, guilty.
Guilty,
yes, they are guilty as charged.
Guilty of the death, the destruction they bring.
Upon the African people,
racial profiling, pulling over with evil intent.
Asking questions,
planting evidence,
just to make the handcuffs happen.
They hide their hatred behind badges of nicotine.
Leaving children orphaned,
swelling prison numbers.
And sometimes filling graves in the cemetery.
Guilty,
yes,
guilty,
guilty,
guilty.