[Intro: Saigon]
Mark Ron… Saigon… Paint the windows black—it's over now
[Verse 1: Saigon]
Finally home from up north, shit. Already, talk leaking through the faucet
‘Cause I ain’t slinging horse shit, they think that I’m on some soft shit
Whatever, God. I’mma work hard to find me a job
That don’t work? Let them be the first jerks that I rob
But no, I’m tryna change it around
Tired of being chained to the ground
From Africa, we came with the crown
When you locked down, your mind frame remainin’ in town
You hardly ever had nightmares of gettin’ slain and then now
That’s as they release me
I done turn on my man who wanna piece me with the key, see, to flip it whenev it easy
But now I’m job huntin’, feelin’ the more aggravation
Knowin’ when they seen "convicted," they tore the application
Probably placed it in the wastebin
While I’m at the crib, pacin’, waitin’ impatient for a call they ain’t makin’
And if I baked a cake, then my momma be stressin’ honesty
Hearin’ now like, “Honey, what happens is what you promise me.”
“Mommy, honestly, look: I got strikes first. With a nigga, second
They think I was living hectic ‘cause I got a prison record
You think they believe I did dirt, but was disinfected?
No, they just neglect to tell me if I come in there, I was misdirected.”
[Chorus]
From the street corner to the jail cell block
Lost souls, crack fiends, and crooked cops
Crime sprees, cheap wine, trees, and drug spots
They say it’s all good when it’s really all not
Someone is crying—I feel your pain
Swallow your tears and call out my name
Lifetime of sorrow gets burned in the flame
The sun comes tomorrow to chase away the rain
[Verse 2: Saigon]
Yo, how couldn't I serve fiends? There was fifty-six in my building
I even hit the souper with somethin’ for fixing our ceiling
I was the only kid at thirteen out at four in the mornin’
Niggas was in they mirrors. I was on the corner yawnin’
Running with kids that was wanted—murder ones and beyond. The
Police reacting off any info the informants respond with (Where was I?)
Captivated by garments, Rugers with the chrome compartments
Teenagers with keys to they own apartment
Young king—my corner park bench
Told this nigga Drab, 50 slabs, just got out his sixth rehab
Fuck did I care? The hell of a hole in his cerebellum come
Dummy wanna smoke jumbs? Dammit, I’m sellin’ him some
That was my attitude after that street life molested me
Listen so you can see how shit indirectly affected me
Same nigga Drab who I told you I sold them slabs to
Needed more to maintain and was down to do what he had to
Walked up on this old lady, put his hand in his pocket
And told her, “Give me the purse!” She screamed, hoping the coppers’ll roll up
He grabbed the purse, which was strapped to her opposite shoulder
She hit her head and leg when she fell, but her noggin was swoller
Before anyone could stop to console her, Drab was showing me what he got in his hold-up
Noticed my mother’s wallet—hold up!
My brain blanked, swore before God
Looked to see one of my old report cards splattered, drabbled over the court yard
No, my ma never recovered from my backless war
Fractured skull—said she might walk again, but they ain’t sure
Drab’s mom still wanted relentlessly
When they sentenced me, she requested that I get no less than infinity
All of this is fiction, but just as well could’ve been real
What they call killing four patients with one pill and it’s ill
But it’s real…
And it’s ill, but it’s real, but it’s ill, but it’s real…
[Chorus] (x2)
From the street corner to the jail cell block
Lost souls, crack fiends, and crooked cops
Crime sprees, cheap wine, trees, and drug spots
They say it’s all good when it’s really all not
Someone is crying—I feel your pain
Swallow your tears and call out my name
Lifetime of sorrow gets burned in the flame
The sun comes tomorrow to chase away the rain
