Tom: G# minor
Intro 1
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Verse 1
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King of the Ghetto in this, check it out
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I'd like to thank my fans,
Verse 2
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for all the love mail and the hate mail
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Every time I was in jail and the judge
didn't let me make bail
The prosecutor gave me my time
and laughed in my face
'Cause he knows I'm goin'
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from first to last place
Verse 3
So I'm makin' out another
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Stamped envelopes and soups,
oatmeal and tuna fish
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Soda, candy, cool offs, coffee is as close
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to codeine as I can get it
Verse 4
Hopin' this weekend I get another visit
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But I ain't stressin' I'm just
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Poppin muscle relaxers so
I'm always sleep
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The warden want the CO's to catch
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me slippin' but they ain't trippin'
So they bringin' me burgers
Verse 5
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Some of them love me, some of
them they can't stand me
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Probably 'cause I'm rich and in
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the world I ride candy
They think they put me through
hell but I can't tell
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It don't matter what they do
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as long as they bring my mail
Verse 6
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bring my mail, my mail
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You can bring my mail,
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bring my mail,
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my mail
Verse 7
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Ain't nothin' on the TV but
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And the sexy guard in the picket
but the windows are tinted
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So you can barely see her
I really hope they call rec in a sec
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Otherwise work out a lil' bit or try
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to get a channel check
Verse 8
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Certain officers try to give me a hard time
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And the GI's watching tryna catch
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me throwin' up gang signs
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For no reason at all, they
constantly harrass me
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Tryin' to get me to lose my tem
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per, so they can gas me
Verse 9
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It's funny, 'cause I got so much pride
they can't take none of it from me
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They just mad 'cause they ain't
makin' enough money
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And still gotta work on holidays,
all day and night
Takin' it out on me 'cause
Verse 10
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But it's all right I just lay back
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When I get out I'd love to see they faces
when I peel out in my Maybach
Meanwhile I can't even
tell I'm in jail
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Y'all can kiss my ass on the way to
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bring my mail
Verse 11
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Bring my mail, bring my mail, my mail
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You can bring my mail,
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bring my mail, my mail
Verse 12
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eatin' for the holidays,
but instead
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I be sharin' meat packs and noodles
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with my cellies and we fed
'Cause we're two gun runnin homies,
gettin' hit up
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Drinkin' hooch 'til we fall
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off and it's hard to get up
Verse 13
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But there's always one
that wanna ruin it
You know the one that's always pointin' fingers,
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he the one that be doin' it
Runnin' off at the mouth but ain't man
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enough to re peat it to the ranks
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So they takin both the TV's out the tank
Verse 14
No necessities either but we can
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But somebody gon' get slit if we
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don't get to watch the Super Bowl
I don't even look at television in the world
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I'll write a rap or write a couple of girls
Verse 15
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Or read me a book to put some
fat on my brain
Before I come back to prison
they'l have to murder me, man
My in and out the jailhouse gotta stop
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But in the meantime I need to see how
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many new pictures I got
Verse 16
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bring my mail, my mail
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You can bring my mail, bring my mail, my mail (my mail,
Outro 1
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