My Job
When squad called my unit I would respond.
Whether it was a stabbing, a shooting, or another dead john.
10-4 I would say I am enroute.
Not knowing the situation or what the call was about.
It was my duty to serve and to protect.
A mentor, a counselor, all I asked for was some respect.
At times I was nervous, even a bit scared.
My adrenaline pumping when our sirens blared.
So many killings to them it's a game.
Kids caught in the middle, a bullet knows no name.
So young, so innocent they had so much left to do.
So forgive me if I cry, because I am human too.
Never once did I take something that was not mine
Not a ten, a twenty, not even a dime.
Always tried to show some respect and kindness.
Because I was proud to be one of Chicago's Finest.
Never did I think when I got this call.
That this would be my last job, my last 5-Paul.
When the shots rang out I didn't feel the round.
Until I heard my partner say "Officer Down".
Now as I lay here trying to be strong.
How could things have gone so wrong.
Not knowing that tomorrow was never on it's way.
The lord had something else in mind, for me that fateful day.
This can't be happening; I'm too young to die.
To my family, my friends, I don't want to say good-bye.
You didn't have to shoot, my life you didn't have to rob.
Because I was just doing what was my job.
