Part Three - MC Chris

My fedora’s full of rain

I resemble Sam Spade

Even though I try in vain

This city can’t be saved

Reminiscing of a Roosevelt

Policing the police

When I’m not keeping the peace

I’m misplacing my niece

I got glasses, a mustache

Stains of coffee and tobacco

First pass the cigarettes

Call for back up when I hack up

My steady stream of coffee

Could you keep me cafeinated?

The weather’s such a pleasure

Always raining and I hate it

Special Forces veteran

More tools and zone than Zepplin

Came back to Chicago

Sweet home needed some defended

But they say there’s bad behavior

Had me gruff by stranger danger

Took a dirty lot

A dirty cop

Should a stopped him

Later

See Chicago has a history of oafish officials

They goldfish

And they know this

While I get a dismissal

Gotham’s looking awesome

It can’t possibly be corrupt

Then I show up

And I grow up

Cuz I know that I am fucked

What

My name is Gordon

Can’t afford it

Put your hands in the sky

I don’t rough 'em

I just cuff 'em

I ain’t bluffin'

No lie

Call me McGruff

Can’t get enough

All this stuff you call crime

It’s pretty shitty

I’ll admit it

But this city’s all mine

My name is Gordon

Can’t afford it

Put your hands in the sky

I don’t rough 'em

I just cuff 'em

I ain’t bluffin'

No lie

Call me McGruff

Can’t get enough

All this stuff you call crime

It’s pretty shitty

I’ll admit it

But this city’s all mine

Picked on in a parking garage

Ambushed by a bunch of thugs

Skull and ski-mask baseball bats

Followed by a lunch of drugs

Threats against my wife and kids

Safe at home asleep and snug

Broken glasses

Broken ribs

Don’t mean Jim won’t fuck you up

Runnin on the road

Don’t liken the cold

I’m pissed

No doubt about it

We drop our guns

I throw mine back

It’s an unfair fight without it

He gets the bearings

I crush the larynx

Now he ain’t fairing so good

I strip and cuff

And leave him enough

By the side of the road in the woods

He keeps depressin' on guessin'

Cuz I start messin' with essin

I had a wife and a family

Now I’m composing confession

She’s coming at me with questions

A lot of pent up aggressions

She starts a quick packing session

She leaves no message, I’m stressing

Better get better instead

Better yet bottle some friends

Needs hit the poor

Cuz the damn divorce

Has oddly throttled my threads

At the end of my rope

I quiver and cope

All alone by the phone in my bed

I go for a glimmer of hope

Get nothing but ghosts

Til a coast in the den

My name is Gordon

Can’t afford it

Put your hands in the sky

I don’t rough 'em

I just cuff 'em

I ain’t bluffin'

No lie

Call me McGruff

Can’t get enough

All this stuff you call crime

It’s pretty shitty

I’ll admit it

But this city’s all mine

My name is Gordon

Can’t afford it

Put your hands in the sky

I don’t rough 'em

I just cuff 'em

I ain’t bluffin'

No lie

Call me McGruff

Can’t get enough

All this stuff you call crime

It’s pretty shitty

I’ll admit it

But this city’s all mine

I’m commended

I’m commissioner

Throw my prisoners

Up in Blackgate

I’m assisted

By the prisoner

Who insists upon visiting mad lace

So I’m often working overtime

Clenching over casefiles

I leave the window open

Hoping

He arrives

And my face smiles

Always on my side

Can’t be controlled by the mob

I know he’s on the case

And won’t beat off til it’s solved

I have an instinct

Bugs are listening

Let’s move this thing

To the roof

I installed a signal

For when I need you

If you needed the proof

The common criminal is evolved

Into a costume and codename

I gather in groves

They’re killing 'em

It goes both ways

You got access to weaponry

But your enemies gonna top it

These 'splosions are enormous

And the body count’s catastrophic

They all know I’m your accomplice

Soon to be coming after me

They’re gonna hold me hostage

Or hurt Barbara

Wait and see

His name’s Joker

He’s an owner of a carnival on the outskirts

Stockpile a toxin

That’s a foxin

Before we have ourselves an outburst

My name is Gordon

Can’t afford it

Put your hands in the sky

I don’t rough 'em

I just cuff 'em

I ain’t bluffin'

No lie

Call me McGruff

Can’t get enough

All this stuff you call crime

It’s pretty shitty

I’ll admit it

But this city’s all mine