[Verse 1]
Thank the Lord for my fans cause they love Z-Ro
I get mail but ain't no letters from nobody I know
It's like I've been forgotten ever since I got locked down
But when my feet hit the ground, that's when phony homies come back around
I'm talkin fair weather friends
That kick it with you when the sun shines on you, but when the fair weather ends
It's over
Nobody screamin free Z-Ro like Bun B was screamin' Free Pimp C
Except Flipperachi and Pimp C
But I'm still livin' and still pimpin' my pen
I swear I'm surrounded by women most offenders ain't men
They gossip like they sittin in the beauty shop
Can't own nothin too busy criticizin what the next man got
And all I hear is, "I ain't gon' sack no groceries or work at fast food"
I would sweep the floor at MacDonalds if I had to
Fuck pride homie I'm tryna raise my daughter
Hopin' I make parole so I can work on bein' a father
Another birthday came and went still wearin' white
I try to sleep all day long, so I can write all night
No visits no rec the only time I get to leave my cell is at chow times and showers
Minutes feel as if they're hours
I read books, tryna put some fat on my head
Dreamin' about when I get back on my bread
So many people want me to fall I know they'd love to see me on lock
But in a minute-I'll be back on top-in due time
Thank the Lord for my fans cause they love Z-Ro
I get mail but ain't no letters from nobody I know
It's like I've been forgotten ever since I got locked down
But when my feet hit the ground, that's when phony homies come back around
I'm talkin fair weather friends
That kick it with you when the sun shines on you, but when the fair weather ends
It's over
Nobody screamin free Z-Ro like Bun B was screamin' Free Pimp C
Except Flipperachi and Pimp C
But I'm still livin' and still pimpin' my pen
I swear I'm surrounded by women most offenders ain't men
They gossip like they sittin in the beauty shop
Can't own nothin too busy criticizin what the next man got
And all I hear is, "I ain't gon' sack no groceries or work at fast food"
I would sweep the floor at MacDonalds if I had to
Fuck pride homie I'm tryna raise my daughter
Hopin' I make parole so I can work on bein' a father
Another birthday came and went still wearin' white
I try to sleep all day long, so I can write all night
No visits no rec the only time I get to leave my cell is at chow times and showers
Minutes feel as if they're hours
I read books, tryna put some fat on my head
Dreamin' about when I get back on my bread
So many people want me to fall I know they'd love to see me on lock
But in a minute-I'll be back on top-in due time
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