[Verse 1: Jimmy Mitch]
It's hard to say we've got some decent cops
Like how you look your partner in his eyes
When he takes innocent lives? It's got to be a quiet ride
I think that was my problem
I could never keep inside, to cops I'd always speak my mind
And they could never keep me quiet. Racially profiled
Everyday I wake and watch the news that someone else done died
If you've got a fam and kids for which you must provide
I just don't see how you trust someone with no regard for life
I don't know how they sleep at night or how they keep their wife
"How many bullets you put in a nigga today?"
"Aw, honey, at least five!" ("Wow!")
Savages, savages, they run the streets and tote that heat
And victimize the people who look just like me
Leave them bloody in the streets it's someone different every week
When they come around sometimes I think, "Is it gonna be me?"
Service and Protection more like Columbine
Holocaust of niggas, genocide is the new paradigm
It's trying times...

[Hook: Jimmy Mitch]
These trying times, what a world we living in
Things we read in history class we living it
They gunning down our people 'cause our skin is (black)
Wake up every morning seems another life is finished
Numb to the effects by now I ain't fazed by the killing
One by one we taking turns, I don't know when my end is
It happens so damn often you just wonder, "who's tomorrow?"
Will I see tomorrow? Will I be tomorrow?