Lyrics Jailbreak - B. Dolan, Buck 65, Dave Lamb

Jailbreak

Nights with the lights out, days in the hole
Mind wonder quite how I stayed in control
Tracing my name in the face of the stone
And I might turn up right under their nose
When the keyhole planks and the man comes
Do you crawl on all fours or stand up
I am upright, I am smiling
I’mma get off this fucking island
Drag me out into the moonlight
Where the wall is all around
The good men are all in their bed
The undead are all underground
Walk through the night to the break of day
I’ve been digging the holes the old fashioned way
I got blood on my knuckles and rock to crack
When you tunnel this fast, no stoppin' that
It’s no slowin' down, it’s no doublin' back
Gotta go the ground and get a hold of a map
Size stroke toward hope with the ocean crashes
It may go down but I can’t go backwards
Uh, bars, callin' all cars, hacks in the robo, caught em off guard
Riot in the yard when you hear the bell
Betta face toward heaven and run like hell
Hell is other people
And heaven is the chance you take in vain
And you might need to kill me, mister
I ain’t going back to jail
Ain’t going back to jail
1976 was the year
Heavenly mix that eventually sticks
Not to mention the heaviest bricks in concrete
Conquerin' drum beats the honkies with tight pants
I might dance, watch me now!
AC/DC, bass take it easy, greasy guitar licks
And reading Archie comics
Nonstop rocks off in bonstocks vomit
Pochop, final 33 in the 3rd deep
Pristine dirty deeds done dirt cheap
Side one track one, deadlock, stalemate jailbreak
Wait to gain
Build your muscle, educate your brain
Stickin' my arms through the bars of the hand-held
Mary one maid, muthafucka, jailbreak
Vertical vertical vertical vertical
Diagonal, diazine, all my lights half passed
Time in a flatfoot lap, on the night of his briar patch act
To the fire, wish it were simple, a signal
A tripped up barb with a neck full of tendrils
Trips to the bars and a moment of mayhem
Built for the key ring, open the cages
Say hello to a growing equation
Woah, sounds fantastic, no
Got a deacon that wants you on your good behavior
And now I’m looking to a neighbor, an elusive nature
Here’s to the oldest trick in the book, look
Were performed by coldest fish on the cook hook
It was deep in the pen with the rags and patches
After we’ve rearranged mess whole distraction
Never mind cabin fever, unwhisper road that gets rabbit season
I’m a bad bad man, I’m a maverick heathen
I am on the truck, I am past the beacon
I am being fed fresh red grapes by the evening
Overstate lines where the 89 sebring
Bye, pardon the commotion I caused
It was this or a me shaped hole in the wall