It's my job to protect society from a person like this
There's two kinds of criminals. one we're mad at
And one we're afraid of
We gotta do the best we can with the criminals
That we're mad at
But the ones we're afraid of, we gotta put them in prison
Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to
Mr 92-A-31-31
From Bay Hill correctional facility
And I'm a pretty good felon with two counts on
One hand gun smoking on trees with three ounces
In my possession, been a bit aggressive
Since my adolescence, expelled from pre-school
I'm on a mission, 'cos hard heads never learn a lesson
With two fire arms headed back to corrections
I'm in a jam, need that one call to fam and I'm
Grinding my teeth as the cell door slams
Come out in seven now meet the new man
On the streets with a modified plan
And I only been home for four weeks
Connected with the block again
Now i'm knocked again, damn
I'm a felon, walking these streets
I can't breathe, in the eyes of the law and the deeds
I'm a felon, walking these streets
I can't breathe
I am a felon
Up in the cubicle surrounded by criminals
Perpetuate bullshit, remind me of the juveniles
Boxed in, counted to the 23rd hour
We're 7 musty niggas in line for the shower
Feel my frustration?
I'm in a fucked up situation
From blowing up trees on probation
And my record just dropped
You can hear it on the E block, on regular rotation
Use imagination
Turn the clock back, shoulda never moved back
Shoulda never trust my ex
She talks on the jack
Who's in cohoots with Black who stabs me in the back
For a little .22 and a handful of crack
On a quest for Rolls Royces you can make the wrong choices
Second strike, front of judge, don't be voiceless
Sentence you to halfway house, halfway out
Looking for a job and a nice shirt
Constantly reminded
I'm a felon, walking these streets
I can't breathe, in the eyes of the law and the deeds
I'm a felon, walking these streets
I can't breathe
I am a felon
I'm a felon
I'm a felon
I'm a felon