I'm involved in a low-speed chase in Slidell, Louisiana,

A large black male with red and black dreads

On a moped ahead of me.

He's goin all of 45 mph through a residential 

When he pops a peg from his deferential 

And slides to a classic stop in a handy ditch.

"He's bailing!" I hear my rookie partner wail.

"He ain't going anywhere," I say.

He is dazed and confused,

And I'll taze him if I have to,

But it won't come to that.

Before he can get his helmet back around right,

He's cuffed, and I pat him down left and right,

And that bulge in his pocket 

Is not a rocket, a rabbit, or anything glad to see me.

It's a big wad of 8000 American dollars,

And we find a big bread bag full of Marijuana

A foot up the culvert where he'd thrown it.

He says it's not his, but if he doesn't own it,

Why does it just happen to be in the very same ditch he landed in?

It doesn't matter. It's all the same to me,

And the tv crew has it all on camera.

And it won't make the evening news,

But they'll put it to some cool rap tune,

And before you know it, 

You'll see it all on Live PD, baby!

-jenn