| They got me locked in Spofford, the lil juvenile criminal
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| Two kids approach to put blades to my throat
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| They like my coat and ask me what I’m gonna do for that
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| Give it up? |
| Huh, you don’t believe that
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| So I threw on my hood, pulled out the banger
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| Swung it at the kids, that put me in danger
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| They put away them blades and said
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| «Why it gotta be like that?»
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| Cause you get a little ox, and don’t know how to act
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| Yeah, now I got props, and I’m runnin shit
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| And when it comes to phone time, you don’t get none of it
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| So sit back and just chill
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| Before you make a lil nigga have to get, ill
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| Only got a month left, so I gotta be on my best
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| But yet and still herb niggas wanna put me to the test
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| So I wild, with a blade and a Kool-Aid smile
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| Let the juvenile catch wreck for a sec
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| Damn, I wish I could put my hands on a
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| Nice-ass tec, and blow a nigga to Babylon
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| But if you don’t, got a knuckle game that’s a damn shame
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| Nigga I feel for, they got you washin drawers
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| But I refuse, cause I got nuttin to lose
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| Props I gotta earn, plus I gotta pay my dues
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| So in the meantime, I got a ox in my pocket
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| They got me locked in Spofford
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| Locked down, they got me locked down
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| Damn, they got me locked down
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| Locked down, they got me locked down
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| Damn, they got me locked down
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| To Spofford, and JV’s worse than Rikers
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| Adolescents that ball hardcore
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| With the criminal minded juveniles
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| The real lil niggas step out of the piles
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| And I’m not takin no shorts while I’m up here
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| Spit em up, gem stars, but ain’t no scars here
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| Protective custody’s got mines
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| No type of help, I’m in here for self
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| And so I got locked up on a one to two
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| On the bus, catchin beef with mad crews
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| Run my shoes, fuck that, I’m goin out kid
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| But not too buckwild, cause I gotta finish my bid
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| Four times, for my peoples up from the 'Bridge
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| Here, it takes a lot of heart to live
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| Behind bars, child correction
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| Trapped in the buckwild dorm E section
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| They got me smokin the death sticks
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| Niggas got me fightin for my life, cause shit is real
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| Shorty kill a man got locked down
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| You want a buck sixty, you betta betta back down
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| On the streets a hood, but in here
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| You’re up to no damn good, nigga I wish you would
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| Try to take mines, and try to shank mines
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| Shorty corrupt, there’s no stoppin me
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| Even in jail, I tear shit up
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| And when I get out, it’s gonna get worse
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| The devil in the flesh
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| I’m puttin hammers on a hearse
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| So while I’m in here, don’t forget my name
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| Ain’t shit changed, I’m still the motherfuckin same
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| I couldn’t bitch up when I got here
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| Cell wreck, I got shit locked here
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| One more month I’m goin Uptown
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| To the big pen, and I’mma still win
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| Cause jail is my life, and I like it here
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| Ain’t no rules, you can do what you like in here
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| Jailhouse blues, I miss the ghetto
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| C.O.'s think they’re five-oh's with no heat
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| So what am I to do when they step
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| Put em in check, and throw hands with a redneck
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| And now I got a little crew to watch my back
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| Lunchtime comes huh, you ain’t gettin none of that
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| Cause I got shit sewn up real tight
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| Not one bit of fright, while I’m locked in Spofford
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| Locked down, they got me locked down
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| Damn, they got me locked down
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| Locked down, they got me locked down
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| Damn, they got me locked down
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| Locked down, they got me locked down
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| Damn, they got me locked down
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| Locked down, they got me locked down
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| Damn, they got me locked down |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Locked In Spofford, artist - Mobb Deep. Album song Juvenile Hell, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп