Produced by @DNAEbeats

I wrote this song for my upcoming album, "80Hrtz" many months ago. This album isn't finished yet, but I can't sit by and not share this song with you all right now. The paranoia, bigotry, ignorance, and gang mentality being displayed by police over and over again in this country makes me nauseous. I wrote this song about being ignorant to my friends feelings of fear, and hatred towards the police, being the one white kid in the group most of the time. I sampled the movie "Colors" where the main officer was nicknamed "Pac-man" by the neighborhood folks he terrorized. This song is dedicated to every person angered and saddened by the events unfolding in Ferguson. An American city, under siege by its own Police force. Black people under siege, once again. Racism, alive and well. My love to everyone in pain over this madness.
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Lyrics: 

Pacman, police, spirits on your back, poltergeist on the vice.

Me, Ive always had an issue with the mans authority,
and within the circle that I ran I was minority, meaning
my friends had darker skin than I and that was just
a fact, if you saw me with my friends and I, you might
thought I was black too,
but not to the neighborhood cops, a blatant racist flip-flop,
on the avenues of L.A, segregating me with ease,
feeling so uncomfortable around the man that they would freeze.
To which Id be like, "we did nothing wrong at the mall today
y'all, why the stalling walk? Nobody called the cops, so lets not
be scared of the hand cuffs.." to which Id get this reply quick..
" Man Eligh, your white,  were not, so shut up, we need to turn
this corner quick before they pick on us to fuck with.."

To Pacman, chased under the streetlights, by the ghosts of
those they stopped illegally or shot at leisurely moments,
paranoid by opponents, as opposed to those they should
be protecting, and so its a battle between the oppressed,
and the oppressor, and confessions forcibly removed from
the tongue of the youth, with no truth, no justice, just torture
and power trips, causing out bursts and hatred for the LAPD.
I could truly never understand what it feels like to have
brown skin in L.A and get pulled over for no reason.
Its in season every day of the week, the suspicion, 
under the seat.."whatcha got, weed, guns, ammunition..??"
Standing so far back from the window, acting like your gonna
get shot automatically, paranoia, boy-a, gonna cause another
riot.

Cops, keep your dogs quiet, keep your fingers off the snaps,
keeping your gun in the holster, keep the mace in your lap,
stop attempting to emasculate my black friends cuz they make more
money than you do..Pacman, spirits on your back man..
rear view mirror is cracked man..Poltergeist on the vice..

Poltergeist on the vice..spirits on your back..police..

Haunted by the spirits of the men you've gunned down in cold blood
on the streets of the U.S.A, not 3rd world, not deterred by that point,
suck that joint down with that drink, you off duty, don't wanna think,
don't wanna blame society for where your bullets land,
the karma your collecting on this earth will take a million life times
to fix your lifeline.
Pull your hand up out your ass, your self-righteousness is spas-matic,
you craft static, then you laugh at it, pass judgment, masked men and
proud of it, shrouded with a gang covenant, covering the continent with
loud guns blasting..Vomit violence, shoot a man in his back because
you fear what you don't understand.
A tactic practiced by cowards. Not a proud soldier. You a Pacman.

Download

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