I see that bumper sticker from time to time, usually attached to a beat-up vehicle driven by an old white guy.
My first thought is always, “Drop the stupid S. O. B. down at 56th and Market for a week. If he survives, see if he’s singing the same tune when the week’s over.”
Politeness does not spring from the muzzle of a gun. Bullets spring from the muzzle of a gun.
Field Negro has more.