Get ya hands off me, get ya hands off me 

Get ya hands off me, (errry) get ya hands off me 

Get ya hands off me, get ya hands off me 

You better tell 'em, you better tell 'em 

Get ya hands off me 

You better tell 'em 



[Verse 1: Big Pimp] 

I'm comin' down the street in my candy painted Chevrolet 

Twenty-four inch chrome spinners got that Chevy skatin' 

Down the boulevard, it's kinda odd the way it's levitatin' 

Six 15's in the trunk got that Chevy shakin' 

I ain't e'en have my music crunk, now they tryin' to play me 

Every time they stop me they don't get nothin' 

so I know they hatin' (not to day) 

I'm slippin' ridin' dirty with a ounce of hay 

I'ma show 'em today the way this 350 can run like Walter Payton 

I done already ate the weed, so it ain't no need for the cops chasin' 

I pull to the side of the street, give him my ID and registration 

"I'm headed to the daycare center officer, to get my babies 

If I keep bein' late pick 'em up, then DHR a' take 'em" 

He told me he don't give a FUCK 

He don't care nothin' bout my situation 

Well I ain't give a (fuck) 

The way the front do' knocked down on the pavement 

That goes to show you how they 

act around holidays and Christmas season 

Just to get that bonus 

they get to stoppin' niggaz for no damn reason (no damn reason) 



[Chorus] 

Police get ya hands off me, nigga stop touchin' us 

If we ain't did nothin', why the fuck you cuffin' us 

I know you probably smell that killer dank 

but that don't mean nothin' 

I don't give a damn what you think 

you ain't seen nothin' 



Police get ya hands off me, nigga get ya hands off me 

Police get ya hands off me, ni-nigga get ya hands off me 

Police get ya hands off me, nigga get ya hands off me 

Police get ya hands off me, get yo' motherfuckin' hands off me 



[Verse 2: Mr. G-stracka] 

Why the pigs out to get me, why they always fuckin' wit' me 

Seem like them bitches pickin', and that shit be fuckin' wit' me 

All the time they mean-muggin', lookin' hard at me for nothin' 

Why the hell you mean-muggin', tell me what you see cousin 

Gangsta gonna stay thuggin', always pistol huggin' 

But my shit legit, and my permit allows the shit in public 

Long as it's concealed, I know my rights so I think nothing of it 

All up in my grill, gon make you feel the way the steele be bustin' 

Never knew a pig I trusted, cause they never let ya free 

Have a nigga on TV, runnin' from the MPD 

Catch me or you gon' get beat, arrest me if I'm sellin' ki's 

But you can't, cause you ain't... seen a nigga sellin' ki's 

Take off all that uniform, put away that badge and gun 

Step off in this grass and lawn, one-on-one we can taunt 

Scared of that, ain't you son? 

You don't want my hands to touch ya 

So when you pull me over busta, don't be tryin' to handcuff us 



[Chorus x2]