Stressing for some days.
Then I caught my case.
I been on the run trying to give myself some time to think.
Sitting in my room, all I did was drink and pray.
Call home twice a week and tell my people I'm ok.
They ask me if I'm stressing, I'll say hell no I'm straight.
But they can tell I'm different because it's written all in my face.
I been working out.
I been gaining weight.
Been having dreams and nightmares about my death and case.

Ain't nobody send me no mail.
Stressing with my back home girl.
Trying to see and conquer the world.
But it all is seeming like just like jail.
Writing down my plans, hoping I don't slip again.
Drop some money on my poems and books and trust me I'll bounce back again.

Things aren't looking good.
But still I keep the faith.
While I'm sitting up in California, trying to fight my case.
Running through this maze.
Just miss my mom and daughters face.
I come out every weekend out my cell just to party and to drank.
Back and forth with peoples words and court,
They talking bout some rank.
I ain't did that since with the homies I was raised.
Everyone across the country,
They seem so far away.
As I'm sitting up in California, trying to fight my case.