The word’s out! New York’s beloved Police Department has finally admitted to the existence of a surveillance task force targeting our culture’s hip-hop icons. You know what this means, right?!! Perhaps we can finally bring some closure to hip-hop’s greatest unsolved murders in what has become a growing epidemic of iconic martyrs. Or maybe this just means that the police no longer have to deny the existence of covert operations that take racial profiling to even higher degrees of civil violations. Let’s go with the latter of these two assumptions.
Without getting too deep, consider the following. What if crack was introduced into this nation to control certain populations of people? Police don’t orchestrate large scale moves like that; they merely enforce them. For that reason, beefin’ with police has become a favorite past time for many of us. But don’t get it confused – it does not pay to be either too naïve or too suspicious of conspiracies embedded in this nation. Nor is it fair to assume that all cops are out to brutalize and harass our own. However, for the ones that do enforce such heinous injustices, we’ve had our eyes on you, too:
"The Black and Blue Beat"
a.k.a.
"Dark Blue Streaks"
This is for those cats in the blue coats
and flak jackets misusing their posts.
Who kick back on cruise and coast
only to track and confuse folks,
Then attack with abusive tones
that pack the sting of being smacked on a bruised nose.
This goes to those who dish out crap about do’s and don’ts
when it comes to crack for losers who smoke,
But snatch packets to redistribute and use coke.
Who act tough when cuffs are bruisin’ bones,
Crackin’ the back of subdued domes
with bats and brutish holds.
This is for rats who infuse Judas quotes
by forcing men to stab backs with maneuvered notes.
Forming pacts that are usually revoked
once the facts have backed their duty’s goal –
Tearing the backs out of Black community homes
by inducing attacks that produce distrust of our own.
This is for those that invoke black and blue toasts
by packing Gats that are used too close.
Thus, evoking black and blue funeral notes
composed for dudes in caskets with suits too soon disclosed
being stacked and viewed from pews in hues that host ghosts –
floating and decomposing in ashes – gone with a wind that blew too close.
This represents Blacks whose fuses are blown –
I combat for you with truest prose
like facts from Jewish scrolls.
I’m jackin’ Jake up with this fluid poem.
I’m takin’ back what he stained up and truly stole…
The pride of Blacks – a beauty to behold.