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Prisoner 1 & 2

Artist:Lupe Fiasco 

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Pre-paid collect call from, an inmate at correctional center This call is subject to recording and monitoring To accept charges, press one To refuse charges, press two If you would like to permanently block your number from receiving calls from this facility, press six For balance and rate quotes, press seven Thank you for using Securus You may start the conversation now Fela Kuti: When you're king of African music, you're the king Because music is the king of all professions (N.U. Music) Lupe Fiasco: Best laid plan make a mess made Damnation, let's play hands and spades That's without, a boycott and a sit-out Afro-Black pick in with a fist out From the "Welcome home" to the kick out Reach into a rabbit, pull a trick out Preacher preaching to a faggot with his dick out Hard times call for armed time Sick, sick, sick eyes from the nose pressure Police snip, zip ties on the protesters Six wives in the fry of a molester Met him at a caviar bar out in Odessa Dirty needles breaking all the old records A hundred hoes, one shovel and some old treasure Ol' Zeke use teeth as a gold tester Finger rolls, finger waves, closet full of old leathers Old sweaters, old boots, that's a whole suit for some cold weather New sale, two L's and some old letters Now he doing double life, while she lead a double life Man, he need another wife New approach might help a nigga bowl better New hoes might help a nigga hold together Or will the new lane lead em' to the same pen And the hunger strike in em' to the same tin Love is Looking Over Various Errors And Hate is Habitually Accelerating Terror Everywhere but the mural I just wanna be collected when I call goddamn I don't wanna be accepted; not as all as I am Visitor, visitor, prisoner, prisoner, land Getting slammed from the protest, no food Force fed him like OB with a nose tube Visions say consult the yogi with the gold shoes With the Rollie going bowling for the old school I need more for the Michaels That's a loss for the class, and a score for the rifles Three hots and a cot, and some cops Trying to find dinosaurs in the Bible It's all quiet in the jail-house Then they ride in to find the empty cells out They was looking for the swords They was looking for the swords I'm just looking at they feet 'cause I'm looking for the Lord Looking in the library, looking at the law Ten years deep, now I'm looking at the bar Claim sovereignty because I'm bunkin' with the moors They degenerate, they ain't looking at the game They just looking at the scores, they be putting on my books 'Cause I'm looking at the stars, trade a shank for some crank Now I'm looking at a war, BGF got the yard AB got the kitchen, snitches on PC MM on a mission, but CO's got the prison God got us all, God set us free God is the key but the guards got the doors Love is Looking Over Various Errors And Hate is Habitually Accelerating Terror Everywhere but the mural I just wanna be collected when I call goddamn I don't wanna be accepted, not as all as I am Visitor, visitor, prisoner, prisoner, land Punching on the glass Scared that some killer might fuck him in the ass Staff getting rigid, wasn't gonna take away the visits Segregate niggas by theyself and make 'em stay with it Wicked, swung the shank around on a mop string They had to pull him out the cell with a SWAT Team That's a cop team, they sent hella cops, to stop, the helicoptering Man, he thought that he'd fly away, like a kite, take flight Like a letter on a string, like propellers on a wing But the kite was the key They made electric chairs for his dying days Last meals, no appeals for him to try and stay On Death Row like Suge and the late Pac Maybe he could dig a tunnel out of A Block And wear gloves for the razor-wired gate top Scared thugs going crazy in a caged box Looking at the world through the TV And they gone, rapping over beats from the tabletops Ay, that's how it is in a police state


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