Gee
stepping up out of my cell
with santos and county blues handcuffs and shackles
gonna ride up on that grey goose,
coming out of a case
cos i was strapped with my nines
they see these drawers that im wearing
muthafuckas aint mine nigga
excuse me homie can i hit that mista
niggas blowing up in the while a toilet tissue
aint this a bitch some niggas are scared to here
fool i'm with it
so phone check
nigga get the fuck off the line
before i stick your ass in here and have to do some more timeplayer
want to give me the strap cos i was strapped with a glock
i guess i got to sit my black ass right there and get shot see
fool
but fool it aint no going out
see i keep scoring clout
and show these niggas what im all about
see niggas screaming from cell to cell
snitches dont tell a party in hell a santa rita county jail
everytime i turn around everytime i look
im considered to be a murderer a crook,
i lea shook the world im gonna shake my homies hand
three in the morning dressed in blue once again
my size ten rest upon the concrete floor
heads bob real slow to a freestyle flow
i dont know
this masterplan
cant understand why there's more black folks in jail than japenese in
japan
but err my eyes pink
sitting upon that bunk
thinking about them tickets
choking up on that funk chunk
withca a snicker from my commisary bank
sunday monday came fool im out this home change
but it makes me think the systems treating us like a merry go round
one day you're chilling at home
the next you headed down
sam peace to my hounds in the county in the pen
once again its a santa rita weekend
chorus
