Key: C major
Verse 1
(You made parole) What?
(Pack your stuff) The fuck?
(And get the fuck out of here) A-
ha ha
time man
Hey yo G, hey yo G son,
I'm out this motherfucker!
Verse 2
I'm never going back again
Never selling heroin,
never selling crack again
coke packagin
My people are stuck behind
glass like a mannequin
They pretend to give a fuck, just
like the Vatican
two- faced Samaritans
back, they... [record rewinds]
I'm out of jail, and
I'm never going back again
Never selling heroin,
never selling crack again
I'm out of jail,
and I'm never going back again
I'm out of,
Verse 3
and I'm never going back again
Never selling heroin,
coke packagin'
glass like a mannequin
They pretend to give a fuck,
F
Fm
just like the Vatican
two- faced Samaritans
Every time we come back,
third- world sweatshop comparisons
'til we kidnap the whole
reckless things
to protect they bling
overcrowded than the rap game
Freakonomics that I speak through Ebonics
as your hype man
We transformed gangs and
criminal enterprises
after they divide us
But I won't let 'em use us like Teddy
Fm
C
Roosevelt's Rough Riders
My movement's like a jujitsu kata
I graduated outta prison,
C
Verse 4
(Hello?) Yeah yeah,
what's up yo?
you know what?
fuckin' lying!)
Yo I'm comin' home to you,
Are you serious?)
fuckin' serious?)
I'm comin' home (oh my God!)
Put the little blue thing on for me, aight?
Fm
F
C
(You got that baby, yeah!)
Verse 5
C
Gm
Fuck this place baby,
I'll, never be cold again
Gm
Fm
Never have to knock a nigga out,
for the phone again
your right of passage in
It's slavery,
how they pack 'em in
Perpetrators on some fake
corroborating evidence
Fm
Niggas sellin' niggas out for true to be,
Benjamins
eatin' Entenmann's
Benihana in and out,
to pay the rent again
answerin'
frustation' I got pent up in
I was sent up in
fuck the establishment
fuck the talent went?"
lyrics with your swaggerin'
I'm a fix that,
full of North Africans
My squad got,
the terrorists attack again
'em and send us back again
Verse 6
Cm
C
I'm on parole,
C
Gm
Fuck this place baby,
C
Gm
Fm
Never have to knock a nigga out,
for the phone again
Cm
C
Prison ain't the place that you find
your right of passage in
It's slavery,
Gm
Fm
with nasty food in your abdomen
C
Cm
C
Middle passage, bottom of the ship,
C
Gm
Fm
Perpetrators on some fake shit,
sweeter than saccharin
I'm on parole
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsC Fm F Db Gm...
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