Lyrics:
In the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the fair Cobh of Cork
We were bound far away with a cargo of bricks
For
you miss me or miss my raps bitch?
This that new shit, that county jail shit
That seventh floor Rice Street straight out a cell shit
You on my shit
and your bitch
Jumped off the porch when I was like six
Uncle Bobby got the house raided back in 9-6
Kick in the door
K9's all in the kitchen way before
Storyteller you could call me Stephen King
#1 bestseller like Pippen 6 rings
It was all written by a mufuckin king
Thought I was kidding just listen
Hello?
This is a prepaid call from Monét, Todrick, and Bobiana, an inmate at the county correctional facility. All phone calls are subject
County road two thirty-three under my feet
Nothin' on this white rock but little ol' me
I've got two miles 'til he makes bail
And if I'm right,
[Common (with Badu singing in background)]
Yeah.. want to feel the vi ah hi hibe
Want to feel the vibe want to feel the vi ibe!
Uhhh.. want
Nevada man
Not from the six in Toronto
The six in Atlantastan
That's Decatur, Georgia
26 years ago today, it's my birthday
Winnett county, what's
her loose like an Uncle Luke Anthem
I'm two blocks away, two hundred and fifty feet
And six steps from where she stay, she waving me 'cross the street
like ding!
Nah shorty, get you open like six packs
Killer bees attack, flippin' what, murder one, phat tracks
Aight? I kick it like a night flite!
Word
shorty, get you open like six packs
Killer Bees attack, flippin what, murder one, phat tracks
A'ight? I kick it like a Night Flite!
Word life, I get that
the summertime
I gotta get another nine, even though I'm colorblind
[Kam]
I'm fresh outta county on bail
And no sooner do I get out, seems like I'm right
finger
On the hand of a man that stands at six-foot-three
Not old enough to understand the meaning of depression
Just something people talked about
took me back
Had no friends for to go my bail
They slapped my dried up carcass in the county jail.
Early next morning about a half past nine
I
you must lie in that county jail
Where I can't get to you by visit or mail
So squirm, with discomfort, wiggle and cough
Six days of madness, you
nine, even though I'm colorblind
I'm fresh outta county on bail
And no sooner do I get out, seems like I'm right back in jail
For some gang related
Nigga, I'm bigger than you, so what you wanna do?
Didn't know he had a .22
Straight sittin' behind his back
I grabbed his pockets and then I heard six
bigger than you, so whatcha wanna do?
Didn't know he had a twenty-two
Straight sittin' behind his back
I grabbed his pockets and then I heard six caps
Nigga, I'm bigger than you, so what you wanna do?
Didn't know he had a .22
Straight sittin' behind his back
I grabbed his pockets and then I heard six
County road two thirty-three under my feet
Nothin' on this white rock but little ol' me
I've got two miles 'til he makes bail
And if I'm right,
Cause it's no days off 24/7 3 6 5
Imma stay paper chasing long as I'm alive
We chasing the paper
We gettin' it daily, daily
Got white like Slim Shady
cold in under six seconds flat
Hang your fallen soldier on a sharp green tack
Well Young county’s finest have seen her shine
Many an empty on that
Miami Miami we talk about cash
Or its no conversation
Rules in dade county get it how you live
Or its no compensation
Niggas don't come correct fuck
raised a good girl but
Do me wrong I'll call Broward
I rep my county cause they got me
They gon' run with your identity
Don't fuck with us we crazy
Ain't
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