A generation ago a singer by the name "Ice-T" put out a "song" called Cop Killer and to put it politely is wasn't received well in the law enforcement community. Then again if an "artist" had put out a song and video about the murder of blacks or other minorities it would have not seen the light of day back in the late 90s. But Warner-Brothers put out this "music" for the young people of America to buy and listen to.
Being the activist that Hollyweird doesn't like, aka a real American, Charlton Heston took some action. He went to a stockholder's meeting and read out the lyrics to this "music." To say the least, the board members of Warner Brothers were a little embarrassed. As Heston put it,
A few years ago, I heard about a -- a rapper named Ice-T who was selling a CD called "Cop Killer," celebrating the ambushing and of murdering police officers. It was being marketed by none other than Time/Warner, the biggest entertainment conglomerate in the country -- in the world. Police across the country were outraged. And rightfully so. At least one of them had been murdered. But Time/Warner was stonewalling because the -- the CD was a cash cow for them, and the media were tiptoeing around because the rapper was black. I heard Time/Warner had a stockholders meeting scheduled in Beverly Hills, and I owned some shares of Time/Warner at the time, so I decided to attend the meeting.
What I did was against the advice of my family and my colleagues. I asked for the floor. To a hushed room of a thousand average American stockholders, I simply read the full lyrics of "Cop Killer" -- every vicious, vulgar, instructional word: I got my 12-Gauge sawed-off. I got my headlights turned off. I'm about to bust some shots off. I'm about to dust some cops off.
It got worse, a lot worse. Now, I won't read the rest of it to you. But trust me, the room was a sea of shocked, frozen, blanched faces. Time/Warner executives squirmed in their chairs and stared at their shoes. They hated me for that. Then I delivered another volley of sick lyrics brimming with racist filth, where Ice-T fantasizes about sodomizing the two 12-year-old nieces of Al and Tipper Gore: She pushed her butt against my --
No. No, I won't do to you here what I did to them. Let's just say I left the room in stunned silence. When I read the lyrics to the waiting press corps outside, one of them said, "We can't print that, you know." "I know," I said, "but Time/Warner is still selling it."
Two months later, Time/Warner terminated Ice-T's contract. I'll never be offered another film by Warner Brothers, or get a good review from Time magazine. But disobedience means you have to be willing to act, not just talk.
To let you know what he was talking about, here it is.
WARNING: LANGUAGE:
Cop killer, yeah!
I got my black shirt on
I got my black gloves on
I got my ski mask on
This shit's been too long
I got my twelve gauge sawed off
I got my headlights turned off
I'm 'bout to bust some shots off
I'm 'bout to dust some cops off
I'm a cop killer, better you than me
Cop killer, fuck police brutality!
Cop killer, I know your family's grieving
(Fuck 'em!)
Cop killer, but tonight we get even, ha ha
I got my brain on hype
Tonight'll be your night
I got this long-assed knife
And your neck looks just right
My adrenaline's pumpin'
I got my stereo bumpin'
I'm 'bout to kill me somethin'
A pig stopped me for nuthin'!
Cop killer, better you than me
Cop killer, fuck police brutality!
Cop killer, I know your momma's grieving
(Fuck her!)
Cop killer, but tonight we get even, yeah!
Die, die, die, pig, die!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Yeah!
Cop killer, better you than me.
I'm a COP KILLER, fuck police brutality!
Cop killer, I know your family's grieving
(Fuck 'em!)
Cop killer, but tonight we get even, ha ha ha ha, yeah!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Fuck the police!
Break it down
Fuck the police, yeah!
Fuck the police, for Darryl Gates
Fuck the police, for Rodney King
Fuck the police, for my dead homies
Fuck the police, for your freedom
Fuck the police, don't be a pussy
Fuck the police, have some muthafuckin' courage
Fuck the police, sing along
Cop killer!
Cop killer!
Cop killer!
Cop killer!
Cop killer! Whaddyou wanna be when you grow up?
Cop killer! Good choice
Cop killer! I'm a muthafuckin'
Cop killer!
Cop killer, better you than me
Cop killer, fuck police brutality!
Cop killer, I know your momma's grieving
(Fuck her!)
Cop killer, but tonight we get even!
Well after two years of the B Hussein Obama "Just-Us" department trying to stir up race and police hatred, we have another "rap artist" having another go at it. He is his video, and the lyrics:
I'm in the booth bruh, gimme, gimme five minutes
Pump your black fist, pump your black fist
Pump your black fist, pump your black fist
Pump your black fist, pump your black fist
Pump your black fist, pump your black fist
These crackers got drones, they flying their saucers
Keep your white Jesus, go pray to your crosses
They burning our churches, quick, pass me the uzi
I know how to work it, I know how to squirt it
No Martin, no Luther, no King
No marching, no choirs don't sing
The same Christian lovers that raped our grandmothers
And hung our grandfathers from trees
They enemies, blood on the leaves
Blood on the streets, blood on our feet
I'm sick of walking, sick of dogs getting [?] barking
I'm sick of spitting [?]
Don't [?], don't [?], don't [?], don't [?]
Because they got chains on they brains
And that ain't no diss, shout out to Tit'
Pump your black fist, pump your black fist
Pump your black fist, pump your black fist
Pump your black fist, pump your black fist
Pump your black fist, pump your black fist
I ain't African, I'm Ethiopian
Put them raw seeds in the fallopians
You can hope I win or hope I lose
Bitch, long as we made it trill I hope again
I hope I get into Heaven, I hope we forgiven
I hope Jesus, far as I know look like [?]
When I see floor [?] them Chevy's I weigh in them 6's
I'm staying religious, but we stay in the trenches
You got to play with they lynches then came to my senses
I bet them crackers never came through my fences
You burn up your cross and I burn up your corpse
And I turn and bang and do the same to the witness
Hang 'em and dangle 'em in the street lookin' up at his feet
So you never forget this, we did this
For Martin and Malcolm, even Mandela
Jimmy Lee Jackson and them nigga Elvis
For Clyde Kennard, hard labour slaving in the yard
For Huey, for Hampton, for Bobby, we godly
For Jordan Davis we gon' play this for Sandra Bland
We gon' stand I'm still out and stompin' for Janaya Thompson
It's Lo'
This is what passes for "art" today. And with today's technology, it really can't be stopped.
In the recent uproar over Beyonce and her anti-cop video, many police officers and organizations have publicly refused to work extra employment for it. Simple point, no publicity is bad publicity and she is working this well. I've said do this quietly, just refuse to work the detail. If you are assigned as part of your regular duty, do your job but go no further.
But I hope this has ran its course, although I know this will not happen until after the B Hussein Obamaites have been purged from the Justice Department will the war on police slow down.
Be safe out there guys.
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