:DTwas the night before kwanzaa, and all through the slum,
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>> Not a creature was stirring, not even a bum.
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>> The children had braided their cornrows with care,
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>> In the hope that Saint Sharpton would soon be there.
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>> The Crips and the Bloods made their holiday peace;
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>> The protesters protested: "F---k tha police!"
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>> The Jews and Koreans hid under their beds,
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>> While visions of rioters danced in their heads.
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>> In a crackhouse some pipeheads were lighting a rock,
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>> When all of a sudden there arose a loud knock.
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>> And what to their wondering eyes did appear,
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>> But New Yorks Finest, in full riot gear!
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>> Boards fell from the window and crashed to the floor,
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>> One landed in front of a twelve-year old whore.
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>> The cops went to work with their nightsticks in hand,
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>> Swinging at skulls as the Africans ran.
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>> A beating ensued as they tried to escape,
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>> But nobody got it on videotape.
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>> A greeting was heard as they managed to flee:
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>> "Merry Christmas, you F---s, from the N.Y.P.D.!"