(AZ) Fishscale, Professional, what's this about men lemme see what this about
Anyway, the food will be ready in 20 minutes
Peace Allah, hope tha scribe reach ya hands in good health As for self, no sense of worrying my cards been dealt Sunk in a cell, fishscale, fifth year of my bid 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 Nevertheless, it's issues I need to address Pertaining the certain statements that made me confess Faced with life, 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 Fog ya vision, guess it's just the odds of living But like me, most great men became god in prison Since Illmatic, first heard ya bars of life I was up in Cansaki, *****s started to fight You touched souls to a lost population of men And no doubt, if ever out they'll never lock me again Faced wit 10 on state time, wit life on the back It's fucked up when your own folks ain't writing you back Learn to relax, 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, condos, The clothes and the city living I seen division, breakdown of the population It's either submit, 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 The past follow, hold the voice just hunger me holdin' my last bottle I live like that of a star without the title, I had to write you 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, you that nigga.
Word,........... Gotta write homey back
(AZ) Ayo, boo I got any more of that mail out there
Got a few more
(AZ) You gotta read this one, the shit right here is deep, man
Alright, gimme a minute
(AZ) Okay, What's this one right here oh shortie from Nashville, alright lemme see this
AZ, 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 And sincerely, 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 My life's deep, 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...