Luyện nghe bài hát Santa Rita Weekend

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

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

I stick your ass in here
And have to do more time player
Want to give me the
'Cause I was strapped a glock

I guess I got to sit my ass
Right there and get shot see
But fool, it ain't no out
See I keep scoring

And show niggas what I'm all about
See niggas screaming from to cell
don't tell a party in hell
A Rita county jail

Every time I turn around, every time I
I'm to be a murderer, a crook
Ali shook the world I'm gonna shake my hand
Three in the morning, dressed in once again

My size ten rest upon the floor
Head's bob real slow to a flow
I don't know this masterplan, understand
Why there's more black folks in jail than Japanese in

But err my eyes pink, upon that bunk
Thinking about tickets, choking up on that funk chunk
Withca a snicker from my commissary
Sunday, Monday, came I'm out this home change

But it me think
The treating 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 it's a Santa weekend

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

Seven zero seven case, motherfucking number two
Stressing manifestin' up from the floor
gots me on the floor
Accused of robbing a

Who you know nigga
Besides 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 blacks look
you, kindly, Sir
You need to your professional better
run up on me again

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

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

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

like yeah, me wait two scales
It don't mean when you're sitting in the county jail
Is it my turn to the tale
Of how I got and how my lawyer failed to get me out

On the slight spot cell block my homies give me
Some here for having gacks, here for selling drugs
Sometimes you do shit and ain't no second tries
Look around, there's of motherfuckas that I recognize

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

I call myself working on a pay
calling me working on my third strike
Sike I go forward
And can't ignore it

all my peoples on parole
In the pen gotta
So it's some shit I leaped in
Damn another Santa Rita

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