Lock Down

(albüm: Bass-Ment Cuts - 1991)

Spitting and cussing and you know I'm pissed
With them iron bracelets on my fucking wrists
And I'm headed for the county
With doughnut-eating mother fuckers all around me
Dressed in my original county blues
With my fresh do-rag and my rubber shoes
Six months in a cement bedroom
Make friends fast, make 'em fucking soon
Five months left, I don't even smoke
Cigarettes are like money, so I guess I'm broke
Drop two months, I'm down to fo'
With the homies playing spades on the dirty-ass flo'
Chilling by my home boy Bruno
Hanging out at the rec and we was playin Uno
And this crack head's gonna try and take my seat
So I whipped his ass and I caught another week
Now I'm staring at a plastic bowl
'Cause the next five days, I'm in the hole
One month left and I'm growing kinda thin
And there's stubbles on my God damn chin
Three days good time, I guess I lucked out
My time is done, let me the fuck out
No more talking my cock down
I'll go fuck me a bitch 'cause I'm outta this lock down, lock down, lock down, lock down, lock down, lock down, lock down