Stepping up out of my With Santos and county blues handcuffs and Gonna ride up on gray goose Coming out of a
I was strapped with my nines They see these drawers that I'm Muthafuckas ain't mine me, homie, can I hit that mista
Niggas blowing up in the while a tissue Ain't this a bitch some niggas are to here Fool, I'm with it, so check get the fuck off the line
Before I stick ass in here And have to do some more time Want to me the strap 'Cause I was strapped with a
I I got to sit my black ass Right there and get see fool But fool, it no going out See I scoring clout
And show these niggas I'm all about See niggas screaming from cell to don't tell a party in hell A Santa Rita jail
Every I turn around, every time I look I'm to be a murderer, a crook Ali shook the world I'm gonna my homies hand Three in the morning, dressed in blue again
My ten rest upon the concrete floor Head's bob real slow to a flow I don't know masterplan, can't understand Why there's more black folks in jail than Japanese in
But err my eyes pink, sitting upon that Thinking them tickets, choking up on that funk chunk Withca a snicker from my commissary Sunday, Monday, came fool I'm out this home
But it makes me The systems treating us like a merry go One day you're chilling at home, the next you down Sam to my hounds in the county in the pen Once it's a Santa Rita weekend
Just up on the top bunk the cell block row Just sitting up on the top Watching the cell row
zero seven case, motherfucking number two eleven Stressing manifestin' tore up from the Penelope's gots me on the of robbing a store
Who you know anybody? which I refuse to answer any questions Without the advisory of my Mr. Baker perming? Of this wall I make, let me go po po, I'm
Mistaken right suppose all look alike you, kindly, Sir You need to practice your better Never run up on me
Bust a be off into the wind, back up off me beyatch Just the other day my cronies me up high We warn you, baby boy, you becoming tight Clayback back a building up there by dreno, Rita, also Gino
sitting up on the top bunk Watching the block row Just up on the top bunk the cell block row
Nah man, I want the chorus right here I throw that right down there you know that baseline
It's like yeah, me two scales It don't mean shit when sitting in the county jail Is it my to tell the tale Of how I got popped and how my failed to get me out
On the slight spot block my homies give me love Some here for having gacks, some here for selling Sometimes you do your shit and no second tries Look around, there's hell of motherfuckas that I
Oh, up man I'm back again But it's a temporary Taking weekend incarceration
I call myself working on a pay calling me working on my third strike Sike I can't go And can't ignore it
all my peoples on parole In the pen gotta So some shit I done leaped in Damn another Rita weekend
Just up on the top bunk Watching the cell row Just up on the top bunk the cell block row