Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Same Time, artist - Joell Ortiz. Album song Monday, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 29.08.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Mello
Song language: English
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 |