Luyện nghe bài hát Santa Rita Weekend

Stepping up out of my
With Santos and county handcuffs and shackles
Gonna ride up on gray goose
Coming out of a

'Cause I was with my nines
They see drawers that I'm wearing
Muthafuckas ain't nigga
Excuse me, homie, can I hit mista

Niggas up in the while a toilet tissue
Ain't a bitch some niggas are scared to here
Fool, I'm with it, so check
Nigga get the off the line

Before I stick ass in here
And to do some more time player
Want to me the strap
I was strapped with a glock

I I got to sit my black ass
there and get shot see fool
But fool, it no going out
See I keep scoring

And show these niggas I'm all about
See screaming from cell to cell
Snitches don't tell a party in
A Santa Rita county

Every time I turn around, every I look
I'm considered to be a murderer, a
Ali the world I'm gonna shake my homies hand
Three in the morning, in blue once again

My size ten upon the concrete floor
Head's bob real slow to a freestyle
I don't know masterplan, can't understand
Why there's more black folks in jail Japanese in Japan

But err my eyes pink, sitting that bunk
Thinking them tickets, choking up on that funk chunk
Withca a snicker my commissary bank
Sunday, Monday, came fool I'm out home change

But it me think
The systems us like a merry go 'round
One day chilling at home, the next you headed down
Sam to my hounds in the county in the pen
Once again a Santa Rita weekend

Just sitting up on the top
the cell block row
Just up on the top bunk
the cell block row

Seven zero seven case, motherfucking two eleven
Stressing manifestin' up from the floor
Penelope's me on the floor
of robbing a store

Who you nigga anybody?
Besides which I refuse to answer any
Without the advisory of my lawyer Mr. perming?
Of this wall I make, let me go po po, I'm

Mistaken right all blacks look alike
you, kindly, Sir
You need to your professional better
Never run up on me

Bust a be off into the wind, back up off me beyatch
Just the other day my shot me up high
We you, baby boy, you becoming hella tight
Clayback back a building up there by dreno, Rita, quentin Gino

sitting up on the top bunk
Watching the cell row
Just sitting up on the top
Watching the block row

Nah man, I didn't want the chorus right
I wanna that right down there you know that baseline

It's like yeah, me two scales
It don't mean shit when you're sitting in the jail
Is it my to tell the tale
Of how I got popped and how my lawyer to get me out

On the spot cell block my homies give me love
Some for having gacks, some here for selling drugs
Sometimes you do your shit and no second tries
around, there's hell of motherfuckas that I recognize

Oh, up man I'm back again
But it's a situation
Taking weekend
Government

I call myself working on a pay
They me working on my third strike
Sike I go forward
And motherfuckas ignore it

'Cause all my on parole
In the pen gotta
So some shit I done leaped in
Damn another Santa Rita

sitting up on the top bunk
Watching the cell row
Just up on the top bunk
Watching the block row