"From Baton Rouge to Jerusalem, wack crews we bruising 'em, Crooked mouth, flat footed cops man we losing 'em, Let me see some ID? ... Fuck a ID, You be getting head from crackheads in the lobby, Mr. Officer, please observe my skin tone Please observe the prophecies of hurricane and brimstone ..."
Jay Electronica. "The Ghost Of Christopher Wallace" Verse 2.