I'm sitting here rocking the cell block, getting a new tattoo. Ever since I left the streets there isn't much else to do. I was banging with my crew when the lead started to fly. I was making a few bucks just trying to get by. One of the boys had a beef and we had to put some work in. One 9mm and three shots later and I'm hitting the Penn. . Watched my homeboy laid down in the street, nobody saw nothing or that's what the police say. Now I got to do 20 hard, I hate that it has to be this way. I left a few good homies still running in the streets, they still trying to be living large and I am property of the state. Looking at the new crew that just came in, I haven't seen my family in God only knows when. So here I sit in a cell, trying to remember what it was all for. I am dying to get a touch, but no love is coming through that door. The ones I thought were my friends, have just walked away. After I took the wrap, they don't have anything to say. Even if I wanted to tell, I don't think I could. I still have family living in the same old hood. So I guess this is how for the moment it has to be. I'm sitting here soldering up with no love from the homies.