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Bring My Mail
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Z-Ro
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1
(*Prod. by Z-Ro)
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{Talking:}
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That's right nigga, King of the Ghetto in this. Check it out*
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I'd like to thank my fans, for all the love mail and the hate mail,
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Every time I was in jail, an the judge didn't let me make bail.
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The prosecutor gave me my time, and laughed in my face,
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Cause he knows I'm goin' from first to last place.
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So I'm makin out another commissary list,
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Stamped envelopes, soups, oatmeal and tuna fish.
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Soda, candy, cool offs, coffee is as close to codeine as I can get it,
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Hopin this weekend I get another visit.
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But I ain't stressin I'm just countin down weeks,
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Poppin muscle relaxers so I'm always sleep.
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The warden want the CO's to catch me slippin,
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But they ain't trippin,
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So they bringin me burgers and barbecue chicken.
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Some of them love me, some of them they can't stand me,
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Probably cause I'm rich and in the world I ride candy.
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They think they put me through hell,
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But I can't tell,
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It don't matter what they do as long as they bring my mail.
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Bring my maaaaaiiiillll, bring my mail. My mail. (My mail, my mail, my mail)
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You can bring my maaaaaiiiillll, bring my mail. My mail. (My mail, my mail, my mail.)
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Ain't nothin on the TV but Jerry Springer,
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And the sexy guard in the picket, but the windows are tinted so you can barely see her.
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I really hope they call rec in a sec,
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Otherwise work out a lil bit or try to get a channel check.
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Certain officers try to give me a hard time,
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And the GI's watching tryin to catch me throwin up gang signs.
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For no reason at all, they constantly harrass me,
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Tryin to get me to lose my temper, so they can gas me.
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It's funny,
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Cause I got so much pride they can't take none of it from me,
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They just mad cause they ain't makin enough money.
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And still gotta work on holidays, all day and night,
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Takin it out on me, cause I'm in all white,
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But it's all right I just lay back,
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When I get out I'd love to see they faces when I peel out in my Maybach.
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Meanwhile I can't even tell I'm in jail,
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Cause I'm doin swell,
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Y'all can kiss my ass on the way to bring my mail.
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Bring my maaaaaiiiillll, bring my mail. My mail. (My mail, my mail, my mail)
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You can bring my maaaaaiiiillll, bring my mail. My mail. (My mail, my mail, my mail.)
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I'm usually out eatin for the holidays, but instead,
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I be sharin meat packs and noodles with my cellies and we fed.
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Cause we're two gun runnin homies, gettin hit up,
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Drinkin hooch till we fall off and it's hard to get up.
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But there's always one that wanna ruin it,
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You know the one that's always pointin fingers, he the one that be doin it.
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Runnin off at the mouth but ain't man enough to repeat it to the ranks,
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So they takin both the TV's out the tank.
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No necessities either, but we can wash our own clothes,
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But somebody gon' get slit if we don't get to watch the Super Bowl.
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I don't even look at television in the world,
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So I'm good I'll write a rap or write a couple of girls.
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Or read me a book to put some fat on my brain,
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Before I come back to prison they'l have to murder me mayn.
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My in and out the jailhouse gotta stop,
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But in the meantime I gotta see how many new pictures I got.
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Bring my mail.
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Bring my maaaaaiiiillll, bring my mail. My mail. (My mail, my mail, my mail)
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You can bring my maaaaaiiiillll, bring my mail. My mail. (My mail, my mail, my mail.)
Junya1gou funny video ๐๐๐ | JUNYA Bes...
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