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locked up - kylledge lyrics

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yea
10 days, more like 10 months
swear to god, when i make it out, i’mma have to smoke 10 blunts
it’s a lot of bullsh-t on my mind

when a group of grown men hit the pod to eat dinner at 5
top of that you gatta get in the line
with a f-cking yellow cup and orange spoon dog
the sh-t ain’t fine

plus it’s h-ll inside the quarantine
and sure it’s a bunch of pretty cos, but them broads’ mean
when they treat you like a dog with fleas
no aware on the streets that they they f-cking suck the n-gga with peas
yea i’m talking about the tree and the peaks

meanwhile i gat to claim i’m tryna settle out
that’s still in the works
and respect, you’ve gatta earn that now
and you’re scared to touch sh-t, cause it’s h-llified germs around
can’t even put your ear on the phone

when you call your girl collect, she don’t accept so all you hear is the tone
no time to get caught in your feelings
you just go back to your cell, hit the top bunk and look at the ceiling
try to read and write as much as you can

funny how me and ink share the same things, we are stuck in the pen

n-ggas’ crying for a visit a week
and your cell is sh-tting up a storm, f-cking with the mystery me

goonie gang n-gga, we hate clowns
for n-gga who never related to me, but we related now
it’s locked up sh-t!

- kylledge lyrics

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