Santa Rita Weekend - текст песни
Santa Rita Weekend
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
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