baby bring that ashtray in here
and bring my mail it's on top of the counter
i don't know some mail came thru today
lemme see what this about
the food will be ready in 20 minutes
hope tha scribe reach ya hands in good health
no sense of worrying my cards been dealt
finally got a chance recent to connect with my kids
it's kinda hard thru carelessness i scared they moms
and temporary i was barred voluntary the bond
it's issues i need to address
pertaining the certain statements that made me confess
it bites when reality hit
and wit crime come a lot of technicality shit
thru many co-defendants conspiracies linking
like the court system designed to keep the mind from thinking
guess it's just the odds of living
most great men became god in prison
first heard ya bars of life
you touched souls to a lost population of men
if ever out they'll never lock me again
faced wit 10 on state time
it's fucked up when your own folks ain't writing you back
spoke wit certain cats that helped adapt
you know the streets to the pen it's kinda hard to transact
all the cars and the pretty women
the clothes and the city living
breakdown of the population
death or incarceration i felt the combination
torn between reality rap and the fakes
some do it for the salary cap few relate
and been thru what i been thru at least in fraction
so when they spit you could feel the passion i see you maxin'
that nas and that jigga riff started some shit
it departed the prison system we should argue a bit
it's a glimpse of what's to come
hold the voice just hunger me holdin' my last bottle
i live like that of a star without the title
it's beyond trying to enlight you
it's a token of appreciation for being that poet with no abbreviations
much respect from us all wish you much success
get yours take money nigga fuck the rest i'm signing off
and leave in the way that i greet and say peace
keep in mind always rep the streets
boo i got any more of that mail out there
the shit right here is deep
what's this one right here
oh shortie from nashville
this is camille since sugarhill been a fan
and since then to me you still a man
a real card player rarely reveals his hand
i could say the hood feel ya jam
i sit and listen to your last edition
washing dishes in the kitchen
or twisting the baby dreads on little christian
it's so sickening his father we both miss him
he was killed in a '99 car collision
i guess the best ones god get them the tar sniff 'em
it's just the way it is in this bizarre system
you remind me of his one concerning words when you speak
you and him both got that funny type of slur in y'all speech
at night it's like his face just emerge in my sleep
i smoke herb so that grief can stop disturbing my peace
it coincide with the way that you rap
i hate it when them commentators say that you back
you never left you was always years ahead of the rest
my baby-father even felt your style he say you was best
how you dress how you move when you in the public
without a lot of luggage gotta love it that's how you thug it. know that