Lyrics Same Time - Joell Ortiz

Same Time

Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you
Damn
Knew I shoulda stayed off that fuckin' stupid-ass block
Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you again
Fuck
Oh well
I heard so many stories, guess I’m here now
E’ryday’s a fishbowl, I’m gettin' staredowns
So this is three hots and a cot?
A bunkie I don’t know in some funky cell block?
Guess I’ll stay to myself and if they try me, I’ll pop
Since I was tiny I could box, but I ain’t tryna get shot
And everybody lookin' grimy, I gotta find me a ox
They askin' if I’m homie or I’m cuz, but I’m not
I’m NFL, guess it’s time I find me a slot
Yo, who controllin' these phones?
I gotta dial back home
How you write a letter?
Where you get the paper?
How much is a stamp?
How you mail it out, playa?
Damn, this shit fucked up, really fucked up
I’m super hungry, but this shit for lunch, yuck
And one CO got it in for me, I got tough luck
Think I used to rough his nephew up on that yellow bus
I wonder if my girl livin' right
An OG told me never call in the mornin' or night
He said the afternoon’s safe, that’s when she’ll speak clear
'Cause if a nigga spent the night, he probably still there
I play chess with my homie in the wheelchair
Never once asked him how he got in there
I never beat 'em either, but, shit, I don’t care
Them stories that he sell make me feel like I gotta pull outta here
Every morning I’m out there on the count
Every evening I’m in here thinkin' 'bout
How the judge really gave me that amount
And how old I’ma be when I get out
Why the fuck I’m here?
Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you
You’re in here at the same time
Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you again
But we don’t do the same time
Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you
You’re in here at the same time
Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you again
But we don’t do the same time
I’m in and out this place every couple years
Face tatted with a couple tears
Yellin' at some faggot up on the upper tier
He keep cryin' through the night, like, «Why the fuck I’m here?
Nigga, deal with it, I keep my gun close
And anybody face appeal with it, it’s real, Richard
Commissary never a problem, my locker packed, and
If I ain’t got it, then you got a snack, holla back
I’m finna hit the yard, lift the entire rack
Today, I’m doin' chest and back
Extra pack of sticks on the juggle from a Redskin fumble
How wild is that?
When it come to the playoffs, the Giants— nah
Got a kite and a pic from this Guyanese bitch
I used to fuck with dreads, shit gettin' fucked in my head
New fresh batch of hooch on the way have nigga twisted
Extra toothpaste my next visit, keep my breath hidden
My brother saw my problem in the other house
Some newcomer runnin' his mouth, so he ran in his
And if he wanna take it further, them hammers is out
You know my name and what my handle about, wassup?
Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you
You’re in here at the same time
Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you again
But we don’t do the same time
Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you
You’re in here at the same time
Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you again
But we don’t do the same time