In a Mess Saigon

[Intro: Saigon and Kid]
[Kid]
Uncle Giddy
[Saigon]
Yeah?
[Kid]
Can you give us a bedtime saga? Please, huh, please?
[Saigon]
I don’t know, man. My saga’s a little deep, man. You kids get in the bed. I’ll get the rhyme book. You all tucked in?
[Kid]
Yeah
[Saigon]
Here we go

[Verse 1: Saigon]
I start the saga in the ‘ville. Police, twenty-one narc fleet
Creeping on Christopher deep in a unmarked jeep
Half of us was sitting dirty—how we clock on the block
Had the .40 cali cocked—I rocked with extra clips in my sock
The blow had me stuck on slow mo. Still on point, though
Reacting once I heard “Yo, low!” Somebody screamed “Popo!”
Fast, I passed the chunk to this youngster that was amongst us
Ran behind [?] stashed the weapon between the dumpsters
So cold. Messiah play [bowl?], annihilate the soul
Fresh up out the North Pole ain't tryna violate parole
One grabbed my son and then, hold on, started to snuff him
But son was resistant, so he told his partner to cuff him
I ran over the van. The Ds was nonchalant—the sham
Thinking “Damn. Prolly seen me hand Scram the contraband”
Felt the coke withdrawal. Wished I had’ve sniffed more
Thinking ‘bout the rest but they probably guarding the fifth floor
Swerving back up the staircase and out on the roof
Maybe I could do some shit like Q and Bishop in Juice
But not. A nigga stopped as soon as I heard the warning shot
Something saying “Jump” but I’m fronting ‘cause that’s too long a drop
Then they hit me with some shit I never heard of, dun
“You’re under arrest, son—robbery and murder one”