County Jail (Blues)

I hope I make it through another day
It's going down in a county way
I think I better sharpen up my blade
Try to understand it's hard to make it through
When I'm in my county blues
(Yeah that's right)

See I'm a ride or die soldado, when it comes to my varrio
Head bangin', stay swangin', when I'm in the condado
Beat boppin' head stompin', ain't a damn thang change
And it's just been like that, mija since back in the days
I'm a roll, leave they face swoll, bloody and split
But hey, that's what you get for some gangsta shit
We don't tolerate joke or bumpin off of them gums
I slide the fiero to your neck and turn around for the next one
I'm a fool with a tool that I know how to use
An A plus in the streets but barely made it through high school
On the tira, a ralleta and it just don't stop
You ever seen a tintos face once his eyeballs pop?
Talk now and talk loud cause there ain't no lip service
All the riding for the cause and you know that it's worth it
Sympathetic, forget it
Baby you just don't understand
All my P's and Q's
But I'm a call you when I can

My homie Chino got a Chain today
He did a jale then he got away
I think it's time to sharpen up my blade
Try to understand it's hard to make it through
When I'm in my county blues

Oh fucking well, W-V-L
I'm stuck cooking pruno in a one man cell
County's getting packed
Homies getting cracked
Jura on the tira
Charlie Row from the back
This shits too real
Bars made of steel
Muthafuckas faker than 3 dollar bill
Funny style homies, muthafucking phonies
Acting like they some, Don Corleonese
But they don't know the business
They act like they do
Soon they're gonna learn to keep it real and stay true
You gotta learn to crawl before your ass walks
You gotta learn to speak before your ass talks
LA county jail
This shit ain't no joke
We sip on pruno and trade soups for dope
If riots kick off we ask no questions
I stay on my toes even if there's no tension

I hope I make it through another day
It's going down in a county way
I think I better sharpen up my blade
Try to understand it's hard to make it through
When I'm in my county blues

Nickel sacks and flapjacks
Slanging weed by the cash
Peep these back and forth frajos
Homie fuck that
I scribe my name under my bunk
In that 2800 block
The prison module prison
Got my hood lighting up the spot
These psycho muthafuckers might be poppin hot lead
My [?] in my sock, homie drop dead
Keep your hands in your pockets
And your shoulders to the wall
Stay away from that phone homie
Unless you're really waiting for your call
Silence in the chow hall, don't speak
You got five minutes to eat
Get back on your feet
Keep a tight grip on your solid steel food tray
Crack over the head and shield up when the jura spray
It's just another day living in this county maze
A message to my youngstas
We all learn the hard way
Minor from Pomona spitting game so true
Watch me man up in my county blues

My homie Chino got a Chain today
He did a jale then he got away
I think it's time to sharpen up my blade
Try to understand it's hard to make it through
When I'm in my county blues