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]