Текст песни Do Your Time (Ludacris) с переводом

You have a call from an inmate in a correctional facility

Inmate, state your name

Darren

This phone call may be monitered and recorded

Press three if you accept the charges; if not, hang up

To my cousin Darren Ransom, stay up homie

To my brother Chris Butler, stay up homie

If you locked in the box, keep makin' it through

Do your time (Do your time)

Don’t let your time do you

To my brother Mikey Mike, stay up homie

To my cuz J.B., stay up homie

If you locked in the box, keep makin' it through

Do your time (Do your time)

Don’t let your time do you

You lookin' at a man that would die for his daughter (yeah!)

Just to let her breathe

And I’d definitely die for Jesus cause he died for me (okay!)

Give my eyes to Stevie Wonder just to see what he’s seen

But then I’d take 'em right back to see Martin Luther’s dream (woo!)

I’d dream that I could tell Martin Luther we made it (uh-huh)

But half of my black brothers are still incarcerated

Locked up in a cell block, lost from the shellshock

Some sold they soul, others used to sell rocks

Look up in my mailbox (yeah), I get letters from my cuz

And every week, said he wanna hit the streets

But he never struck a deal 'cause his mouth will never squeal

Put some money on his books and help him out with his appeal

Send some pictures of the fam' and nasty pics of Shawnna (okay!)

And if you ever have to leave, I got your mother and your daughter (I gotchu!)

Born in this way of livin and our youth was stuck

To be safe, it’s safe to say the justice system’s fucked up

If you doing 25 to life, stay up homie

I got your money on ice, so, stay up homie

If you locked in the box, keep makin' it through

Do your time (Do your time)

Don’t let your time do you

All my peoples in the pit, stay up homie

And until you hit the bricks, stay up homie

If you locked in the box keep makin' it through

Do your time, don’t let your time do you

Until I went to jail, you couldn’t tell me I ain’t seen it all

That box (a motherfucker!), it could stress a nigga bald

Especially when you broke

And home base ain’t accepting your calls

And you don’t hear your name when it’s mail time

Got them damn jailhouse barbers pushin' back on your hairline

Fuckin' Sinequans’ll have you stuck in that pill-line

Your bitch missed the V-I this weekend

The food in your locker keeps shrinkin', your celly feet stinkin'

The canteen ran out of menthols

Can’t see how grown men wash other men drawers (eugh!)

Niggas play the phone room reckless

And get hit with new indictments

Talking about old connects and new prices (ugh)

Stress’ll take a young nigga, give him an old face (or…)

Stress’ll take a dumb nigga, give him a new case

That’s shit I used to tell my walkie, Lil' Itchy

All he did was smoke weed and drink coffee, I know he miss me

To my man Lil' Neal (stay up homie)

To my man Steve P (stay up homie)

If you locked in the box keep makin' it through

Do your time (Do your time)

Don’t let your time do you

To my man Paul Selene (stay up homie)

To Abdul McKeith (stay up homie)

Until I see you in the streets, keep makin' it through

Do your time (Do your time)

Don’t let your time do you

Unh! if your people locked up, you need to send 'em some shit

Cause it’s never too late to stop being a bitch

A magazine and some pictures is a nigga’s whole world

When I was down, them niggas fell off, so I’m ridin' with the girls

Cause they got more heart than them fake-ass dudes

Ain’t send no letters, no books, and no money for no food

'Cause commissary is so very necessary

It’s so close to being slavery, in Texas, nigga, it’s scary

I reached out to C-Murder right before I came home

And when them hoes let me go, I make sure that his books was on

And three months later, that nigga came home too

Ain’t no limit to this shit cause now his dreams comin' true

I’ma keep ridin with Bun cause UGK will never stop

And I’ma stand up for my partners, steady let them off a lot

(Yeah!) Biatch, and I’m as trill as you can be

They scream «Free Pimp C» but now, see the pimp free

(Here I go! C-Murder!)

Wake up, roll call, another day gone by

Now put a 'X' on November 25

I’m still alive, open the death row balls (ch-chk)

Now this dead man walkin', parkin' million dollar cars

It’s slavery, hard labor, catch the feel (catch the feel)

Redneck on the hearse while you walk, it’s real

With a shotgun, burnin' at the back of your dome

Three hundred years left, my dawg ain’t never comin' home (damn)

One fight, dude got stabbed, he lost an eye (uh-huh)

Almost died, in Camp Jay nigga, ride or cry (cry)

Cream had suicide attempts, Precious took his own life

White boys can’t handle the pain at night (geah!)

You gotta fight for your shoes, or get your ass took (shoes)

And walk around with lipstick, and a pocketbook (pocketbook)

You all in, bitch, sit down when you piss (haha)

Sweet-ass, you a ho, watch, I’ll blow you a kiss, mwah

To my cousin Jimmy Watson (stay up homie)

To my homeboy Mack (stay up homie)

If you locked in the box, keep makin' it through

Do your time (Do your time)

Don’t let your time do you

To my nigga Pharaoh (stay up homie)

To my nigga Z-Ro (stay up homie)

If you locked in the box, keep makin' it through

Do your time (Do your time)

Don’t let your time do you

To the king Larry Hoover (stay up homie)

To my partner Shan-O, you gotta (stay up homie)

If you locked in the box, keep makin it through

Do your time (Do your time)

Don’t let your time do you

To the homeboy Shyne, stay up homie

To my nigga Mystikal, stay up homie

If you locked in the box, keep makin' it through

Do your time (Do your time)

Don’t let your time do you