| I get mail but ain’t no letters from nobody I know
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| It’s like I’ve been forgotton-every since I got locked down
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| But when my feet hit the ground, that’s when phony homies come back around
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| I’m talkin fair weather friends
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| That kick it with you when the sun shines on you, but when the fair weather ends
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| It’s over… nobody screamin free Z-Ro like Bun B was screamin' Free Pimp C
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| Accept Flipperachi and Pimp C
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| But I’m still livin' and still pimpin' my pen
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| I swear I’m surrounded by women-most offenders ain’t men
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| They gossip like they sittin in the beauty shop
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| Can’t own nothin-too busy criticizin what the next man got
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| And all I hear is I ain’t gon' sack no groceries or work at fast food
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| I would sweep the floor at MacDonalds if I had to
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| Fuck pride homie I’m tryna raise my daughter
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| Hopin' I make parole so I can work on bein' a father
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| Another birthday came and went-still wearin' white
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| I try to sleep all day long, so I can write all night
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| No visits or rec-the only time I get to leave my cell is at chow times and
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| showers
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| Minutes feel as if there hours
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| I read books, tryna put some fat on my head
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| Dreamin' about when I get back on my bread
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| So many people want me to fall-I know they’d love to see me on lock
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| But in a minute-I'll be back on top-in due time…
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| Time waits for no one
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| Last year was a hard one but life goes on
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| I bump my head against the wall, learnin' right from wrong
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| I fall off every ten minutes on this mission I’m on
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| Time waits for no one
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| Last year was a hard one but life goes on
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| I never said I was perfect, man I come from the block
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| If it wasn’t for time, I’d be stuck in the same spot
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| I can breathe again-pass me a blunt that’s fat
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| Plus my strap, so I can face my enemies again
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| July 9th, ain’t no more commissary-catch me at Pappadeux
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| Time to get tappered by free world clippers and shop for clothes
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| Plus I gotta leave some people alone
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| That could determine if I go back to prison or stay at home
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| Bottom line-you ain’t gotta be in jail to be doin' time
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| It ain’t like it’s hard to tell-I've reentered the game
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| Ain’t nothin changed-accept the year
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| When I left people dyin' and death is still here
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| As if we fear nothin' man enough to kill somethin
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| But too coward to come together and build somethin
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| Violent crimes, the caskets are smaller in size
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| How the hell a ten year old get shot-eleven times
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| Prison ain’t changed me, I’m the same nigga
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| Not a trouble maker but ya’ll know I’ll never hesitate to pull-a-trigger
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| They say my ghetto instrumental is influential to black
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| I just confess how far I go, not to get put on my back
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| I never made a man kill a man
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| Even if he was bumpin' my song at the time-murder was his original plan
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| I understand it’s a time to be born and a time to die
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| Time to laugh and a time to cry
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| A time to look for somethin' and a time to consider it lost
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| Time for sadiness and a time for joy
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| A time to build and a time to destroy
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| A time for war and peace
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| A time for silence and a time to speak
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| And I think it’s time we come together on these streets
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| Fill up churches Sunday mornin' like clubs-Saturday night
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| And have a good worship service-just like we have a good fight
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| 'Cause when the trumphet blows it’s over, time is at it’s end
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| If you don’t wanna burn, forever repent for all of you’re sins
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| And homie I don’t give a fuck, if you blood or cause
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| Get you’re relationship right with the one above
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| 'Cause it’s almost time…
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| Time waits for no one
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| Last year was a hard one but life goes on
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| I bump my head against the wall, learnin' right from wrong
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| I fall off every ten minutes on this mission I’m on
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| Time waits for no one
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| Last year was a hard one but life goes on
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| I never said I was perfect, man I come from the block
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| If it wasn’t for time, I’d be stuck in the same spot |