Prison Timbuk-Fuckin-Tu

• Written by 

Oh,
 
I be awakening every morning in the same grubby cell,
framed for a murder,
now this whole thing be hell.
In a gang, drug dealing is my thing,
making guards shudder
at the presence of me, so bring
all of the armed guys you want
they still all got that nervous stutter
wanna put me on death row, try it, your ass will get stomped
by my lyrical force
the power of a Rottweiler
and the speed of a horse.
These niggas getting harassed in shakedowns,
cops think we all got something to hide,
fucking clowns.
I got pictures in my cell, memories of home
If I had to give advice, son
it would be remain unknown
You aint got the heart of a real rapper,
I was my hands in your blood,
impregnated yo sister, but that don't matter,
I'm just getting by like any man should.
Death row isn't scaring me, it's funny, actually
because this life is bullshit
and soon I'm free, finally.
Call me a madman for saying this, whatever,
but when I'm gone,
it's these words you'll remember.
 
Because this jail is full of shit,
welcome to it,
careful not to step on the needles or spit.
Guards won't take kind to your pot,
they see the green in the plastic bag
and you will get shot.
If you're not here for life or death, lucky you,
you get to shoot dice and go insane
in Prison Timbuk-Fuckin-Tu.
 
Once you're in, face reality, goodbye American dream,
now you either get beat up or stand up, either way you'll die,
this whole thing making you scream,
and why you're in here, well, for that you is wondering why.
Perhaps you'll turn to drugs,
you mite even be successful, get some money,
until the guards inevitably pull the fuckin' plugs.
You wanna be the bait or the predator, honey,
if it aint the latter, you'll be bleedin' out on the ground,
murdered by some prison thugs.
Even if you do get out, I hate to break it,
but you aint got shit in life now,
you can't even get any tit,
so well done for this, take a bow.
Maybe I shouldn't judge you, perhaps the law is wrong,
but even so, you're in here now,
and remember: you're scrawny, I'm strong.
Enjoy our shitty little rations,
crap quality meat, and did you hear about rat poison in the food?
Yeah, it's chef's new passion.
But we're isolated from the public eye,
left here with no voice to dwell and say bye
to our loved ones, who are behind glass walls,
and when guards pull you away from your baby daughter, don't ask why.
Because they fuckin hate our guts,
they execute us niggas and barely let out a few tuts.
We're scum of the earth,
and in this hellhole you'll find out your real worth.
 
Because this jail is full of shit,
welcome to it,
careful not to step on the needles or spit.
Guards won't take kind to your pot,
they see the green in the plastic bag
and you will get shot.
If you're not here for life or death, lucky you,
you get to shoot dice and go insane
in Prison Timbuk-Fuckin-Tu.
 
Timbuk-Fuckin-Tu, what a name,
with all the people it's murdered, it's in the hall of fame,
and yet is hailed by the public, it has no shame,
guards will search and harass you before they learn your damn name.
Watch your step around here,
one false move around a gang,
and you're out for good with a shiv stuck up your fucking rear.
Watch the showers, shorty, don't drop that soap,
oh wait, you're here for prostitution
so you're use to it, I hope.
Yeah this pace is brutal,
with guards blinded by the government
al attempts to reason with them are futile.
Son, that's jus the way it is.
Don't get pissed of at my poor ass,
just keep your head up, legs closed, reputation high and mind your biz.
 
 
Because this jail is full of shit,
welcome to it,
careful not to step on the needles or spit.
Guards won't take kind to your pot,
they see the green in the plastic bag
and you will get shot.
If you're not here for life or death, lucky you,
you get to shoot dice and go insane
in Prison Timbuk-Fuckin-Tu. (x3)
 
Timbuk-Fuckin-Tu, man,
Timbuk-Fuckin-Tu.
Timbuk-Fuckin-Tu, man,
this shit be the death of you.

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About the Artist

Jerrika
Member since August 25 2015

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