Yeah.
Me and the boy JT, the bigger figure.
straight from West Block, St.
Quentin Prison, serving a five-year
Sentence on a robbery case.
This is to everybody I love.
Everybody I'm gonna miss.
September 5th, a.m., courtroom team.
Turned myself in, sentenced to five years on the robbery case.
Can't forget the look on my woman and my mother's face.
Now I'm on the Great Goose, west of Block Bound.
No more riding with my homies getting high.
Just reminiscing about the east side.
Hit the weight path.
Try to stay in shape.
By the time I get out, I have songs for tapes.
Family visits I look forward to.
And on my back I got a new tattoo.
The folk, the one, the five.
Splint in my stride, never gots to ride.
One day soon I'll be home and my kids and their mother won't be alone.
Stint test of five long years.
Face will be full of those tattooed tears.
Days turn to years on the compound.
Never would have thought I'd be in a dentry bound.
Since it's the five long years.
Face will be full of those tattooed T's.
Days turn to years on the compact.
Never would have thought I'd be in a didgeridoo.
Devastated with flows and overflooded with game.
Ten years, then passing out the things, then change.
Remember the ballers?
Remember the shot callers?
Remember the times when Romans was rolling around in them 7-7 mobbing parlors?
Dome lights, Phantom top with a paint for Migos Candy paint, with a slap in the back to make that beat dome Homies miss it, but ain't no need for reminiscing
Celebrating, cause all these days young men been waiting Strike on days, at the under spot, now make it clever 9-5 group to my destination to make it a whole lot better But upon this bulk I sit, I'm thinking about my grip I had my choice to have my freedom or an extra clip I chose my freedom cause I'm on my way home Done a year sale for a bid, now I get to see my kid
Grow into his manhood.
No more late night pots with a bag of rocks playing hide and seek from a gang of cops.
Since that's the five long years.
Face will be full of those tattooed tears.
Days turn to years on the compound.
Never would have thought I'd be in a gentry band since that's the five long years.
Face will be full of those tattooed tears.
Days turn to years on the compound.
Never would've thought I'd be penitentiary bad I got a letter from my house, my homie just died
seems nothing ever changes on the east side reading book after book eating spreads
Penitentiary lifestyles playing with my head Wish I never did what I done But it's already done
And I can't run, missing my family and my freedom.
I guess you never really know how much you really need them.
My girls are growing up to be young women, and I'm regretting every day that their father's not with them.
But everybody makes mistakes, we're only human.
But reckless was the lifestyle I was pursuing.
Smacking brothers, jacking brothers.
Noun every day, the more I miss my mother.
I walk around with my head hanging down.
Never would have thought I'd be penitentiary bound.
Since that's the five long years.
Face will be full of those tattoo tears.
Days turn to years on the compound.
Never would have thought I'd be penitentiary bound since that's the five long years.
Face will be full of those tattooed tears.
Days turn to years on the compound.
Never would have thought I'd be pinning a gingery bag.
Sentence to poverty.
They spent the years on the compound.
Never would have thought I'd be in a ditch with bass.
Then met the five long years.
Solano.
