Some Niggas

(Styles P)

Spittin the real for all my niggas in prison

Whether twenty-five to life or skid biddin

Should've restrained, some of us change and some of us don't

Most of them kill but some of them won't

Niggas is big, niggas is small, but all of them brawl

It could happen during rec or while you makin a call

One T.V. for the Ricans, other one for the Blacks

Only cowards get son'ed for the jack

Only cowards get talked to greasy and be mumblin back

But me, I grab the banger, I don't care about size

Hope the whole block watch when I tear out your eyes

C/O pullin the pin, turtles is comin

But before I hit the box dog, I'm murderin somethin

Thick is thick, frail is frail

Make sure that my name ring bells wheneva I'm in jail

It's the belly of the beast, bottom of hell

(Chorus)

Some niggas make it home and some niggas stay for life

Some niggas grind wit swords and some niggas find in Christ

Some niggas live for peace and some niggas live for rec

You can even stay on the humble or you can have a fight till the death

(Styles)

Five-eight and two-hundred

And too blunted for the bullshit

Comin through the yard on some bullshit

Call my girl collect, she ain't accept

Left my man wit ten birds, he ain't connect

Everybody actin funny, like I ain't comin home

My laywer is Jewish, my money is long

You know that it's on

Two cells down, got cut in the back

Fucked in the shower for hustling crack

This shit is for real, you grippin your steel

Weighin the odds, you King or you Crip

Blood or you God, Muslin or neutral

A buck-fifty is real, but a body is crucial

Cause jail turn boys to men, some men to bitches

This the place where they end your wishes

Ain't no more pussy or money

Just some crackers and the bunch of coward niggas that'll look at you funny

I should've wyled out in bookings and took a few dummies

Chorus

(Styles)

Nobody wanna die in jail

Wit they blood and they guts all around they cell

Only two ways to live, ride or tell

I ain't never say a word, Mafia rules

You know the P go to commissary, rockin his jewels

New Nikes and a walkman, lookin for Mules

To bring weed in they ass, COs got me stressed

And I'm thinking those days I used to breeze on the Ave

Poppin in the Benz, now I'm in the state

And I'm locking up at 10, wakin up at 8

Twenty sets of tens then I take it to the weights

Niggas getting big, if I can't appeal, I'mma bring it to the pigs

Grab the ice pick and just bring it to they ribs

Leave em wit a scare, from they belly to the jibs

I know I'm gonna die but I still gonna ride and blame God that I live

Chorus 2x