Coup - Santa Rita Weekend Lyrics
[spice-1]Stepping up out of my cellWith santos and county blues handcuffs and shacklesGonna ride up on that grey goose,Coming out of a caseCos I was strapped with my ninesThey see these drawers that Im wearingMutha*****as aint mine niggaExcuse me homie can I hit that mistaNiggas blowing up in the while a toilet tissueAint this a ***** some niggas are scared to hereFool Im with itSo phone checkNigga get the ***** off the lineBefore I stick your ass in here and have to do some more timeplayerWant to give me the strap cos I was strapped with a glockI guess I got to sit my black ass right there and get shot seeFoolBut fool it aint no going outSee I keep scoring cloutAnd show these niggas what Im all aboutSee niggas screaming from cell to cellSnitches dont tell a party in hell a santa rita county jail[e-roc]Everytime I turn around everytime I lookIm considered to be a murderer a crook,Ali shook the world Im gonna shake my homies handThree in the morning dressed in blue once againMy size ten rest upon the concrete floorHeads bob real slow to a freestyle flowI dont know this masterplan cant understandWhy theres more black folks in jail than japenese in japanBut err my eyes pinkSitting upon that bunkThinking about them ticketsChoking up on that funk chunkWithca a snicker from my commisary bankSunday monday came fool Im out this home changeBut it makes me think the systems treating us like a merry go roundOne day youre chilling at homeThe next you headed downSam peace to my hounds in the county in the penOnce again its a santa rita weekendChorus: 2xJust sitting up on the top bunkWatching the cell block row.[e-40]Seven zeroh seven case mother*****ing number two elevenStressing manifestin tore up from the floorPenelopes gots me on the floorAccused of robbing a storeWho you know nigga naybody?Besides which I refuse to answer any questionsWithout the advisory of my lawyer mr bakerPerming? of this wall I makeLet me go po po Im innocentMistaken right suppose all blacks look alikeThank you kindly sirYou need to practice your professional betterNever run up on me againBust a pattern be off into the windBack up off me beyatchJust the other day my cronies shot me up highWe warn you baby boyYou becoming hella tightClayback back a building up there by dreno, rita, quentin also ginoChorus[boots]Nah man I didnt want the chorus right hereI wanna throw that right down there you knowThat basslineIts like yeaoh, meao? weigh (wait) two scalesIt dont mean shit when your sitting in the county jailIs it my turn to tell the taleOf how I got popped and how my lawyer failed to get me outOn the slight spot cell block my homies give me loveSome here for having gacksSome here for selling drugsSometimes you do your shitAnd aint no second triesLook around theres hell of mother*****as that I recognizeOh whats up man Im back againBut its a temporary situationTaking weekend vacationGovernment incacerationI call myself working on a pay hikeThey calling me working on my third strikeSike I cant go forwardAnd mother*****as cant ignore itCos all my peoples on paroleIn the pen gotta warrantSo its some shit I done leaped inDamn another santa rita weekendChorus
