Phone rings twice*

Hello?

(arabic voice) You have a collect call phone call

In a New York state correctional facility

Press five five to accept, or hang up to decline

Verse One:

Whattup gangstas, how thaya'll feel

We keepin it real, and hold on tight to your steel

Let them caps peel, one by one

And laugh while the nig run

He shoulda been packin his gun, now he gone

Cuz he got slippin like an old

In the wet staircase shaft, now watch his man snitch

To tha police, but them no worry me son

I ain't trying to get back it'd be my third felony

Pataki he want to see us, criminals fry

In the electric chair, but my spirit will never die

A true project I won't hesitate

To pull the BLAOW, peace to all busy niggaz

One love y'all stay safe

Andyou, Officer Brown, peace to thatCase

Chorus: repeat 4X

WhOO WhOO

Jiggy comin,tha police y'all, cuz I ain't runnin

Verse Two:

All ya'll police can suck my diiiiiiick

And Mayor Gulliani, that cracker boy full of

I represent, for all my niggaz doing time

And those who got beat up and killed by the swine

Beo-tches, them porks, beotch

Them think them bad, cuz they carry, glocks and badges

And when I'm pimpin in my green Acura

They pull me over, like I stole it from some

But all my paperwork is legit

Registered insured in my name, so ya'll pigs can

Police be cockin me like I'm some dime piece

A G from the street so I can never turn beast

Verse Three:

There's crooked cops, that's why they get shot by tha minute

If you were criminal and you ready to represent, kid

Blaow, that's how I like it, word is bond

My hair ain't blonde my eyes ain't blue so now I'm dead boo

It's on like this is war, all my brothers in the hood

I gots fam that's constant understand I wish they would

But it's all good, peace to my niggaz locked in jail

Bushy Kam, Killa Kane, Fogey Foo, and Ale

Down Low Wrecka and Junior be on storm

Keep your headz up, and keep it real cuz you know I'm gonna

And for my niggaz doin six months

I see yo ass next summer, word up