Текст песни Prisoner 1 & 2 (Lupe Fiasco) с переводом

This call is subject to recording and monitoring

To accept charges, press 1

To refuse charges, press 2

If you would like to permanently block your number

From receiving calls from this facility, press 6

For balance and rate quotes, press 7 (button press)

Thank you for using Securus

You may start the conversation now

The King

When you’re king of African music you’re the King

Because music is the king of all professions

(N.U. Music)

Best laid plan, make a mess, made

Damnation, let’s play hands, sans spades

That’s without, a boycott and a sit-out

Afro-Black pick in with a fist out

From the «Welcome Home» to the kick out

Reach into a rabbit, pull a trick out

Preacher preaching to a faggot with his dick out

Hard times call for armed time, hmm

Sick, sick, sick eyes from the nose pressure

Police snip zip ties on the protesters

Six wives in the fry of a molester

Met him at a caviar bar out in Odessa

Dirty needles breaking all the old records

A hundred hoes, one shovel and some old treasure

Ole Zeke use teeth as a gold tester

Finger rolls, finger waves, closet full of old leathers

Old sweaters, old boots, that’s a whole suit for some cold weather

New sale, two L’s and some old letters

Now he doing double life, while she lead a double life

Man, he need another wife

New approach might help a nigga bowl better

New hoes might help a nigga hold together

Or will the new lane lead em' to the same pen?

And the hunger strike in em' to the same tin

Love is looking over various errors

And hate is habitually accelerating terror

Everywhere, but the mirror

I just wanna be collected when I call god damn

I don’t wanna be accepted; not as all as I am

Visitor, visitor, prisoner, prisoner, land

Getting slammed from the protest, no food

Force fed him like OB with a nose tube

Visions say consult the yogi with the gold shoes

With the Rollie going bowling for the old school

(Yeah) I need more for the Michaels

That’s a loss for the class and a score for the rifles

Three hots and a cot and some cops

Trying to find dinosaurs in the Bible

It’s all quiet in the jailhouse

Then they ride in to find the empty cells out

They was looking for the swords

They was looking for the swords

I’m just looking at they feet cause I’m looking for the Lord

Looking in the library, looking at the law

10 years deep, now I’m looking at the bar

Claim sovereignty cause I’m bunkin' with the Moors

They degenerate, they ain’t looking at the game

They just looking at the scores, they be putting on my books

Cause I’m looking at the stars, trade a shank for some crank

Now I’m looking at a war, BGF got the yard

AB got the kitchen, snitches on PC

M&M on a mission but C.O.'s got the prison

God got us all, God set us free

God is the key, but the guards got the doors

Love is looking over various errors

And hate is habitually accelerating terror

Everywhere, but the mural

I just wanna be collected when I call god damn

I don’t wanna be accepted; not as all as I am

Visitor, visitor, prisoner, prisoner, land

Punching on the glass

Scared that some killer might fuck him in the ass

Staff getting rigid, wasn’t gon' take away the visits

Segregate niggas by theyself and make 'em stay with it

Wicked, swung the shank around on a mop string

They had to pull him out the cell with a SWAT team

That’s a cop team

They sent hella cops to stop, the helicopteriiiing…

Man, he’d thought that he’d fly away

Like a kite, take flight, like a letter on a string

Like propellers on a wing (but the kite was the key)

They made electric chairs for his dying days

Last meals, no appeals for him to try and stay

On Death Row like Suge and the late Pac

Maybe he could dig a tunnel outta A Block

And wear gloves for the razor-wired gate top

Scared thugs going crazy in a caged box

Looking at the world through the TV

And they gone, rapping over beats from the tabletops

Ay! That’s how it is in a police state

When your life is just a number and release date

When you’re rehabilitated so correctly

And let’s hope that’s how you’re living when you’re set free

Love is looking over various errors

And hate is habitually accelerating terror

Everywhere, but the mural

I just wanna be collected when I call god damn

I don’t wanna be accepted; not as all as I am

Visitor, visitor, prisoner, prisoner, land

To accept charges, press 1

To refuse charges, press 2

If you would like to permanently block your number

From receiving calls from this facility, press 6

For balance and rate quotes, press 7 (button press)

Thank you for using Securus

You may start the conversation now

The orange wings of the new Jim Crow

Are dyed Klansman sheets and court papers

Dreadlocks nooses hang from his neck as the new Jim Crow

Corporations feed him seeds yet unborn

He’ll be captured by Maya in a ruby-encrusted cage

I see the light at the end of the tunnel

And answers that I leave in empty pages to be written

Where is your pen? The new Jim Crow

(The new Jim Crow, the new Jim Crow, Crow, Crow, Crow, Crow)

They sell they souls, they sell their selves

They ain’t twelve, they old, niggas old as hell

Old as jail, old as cells

Sold so much salt, ain’t no more salt on the shelves

You a prisoner too, you living here too

You just like us, til' your shift get through

You could look like us, you know shit get through

You should be in cuffs like us, you should get strike two

You should get like life, you should get like woo!

You should get that twice, you should get refused

The open road, that’s no parole, and no control

Over your own soul, so control

Your own remote control that your folks can hold

You better watch these niggas (en garde)

If it was up to me, I would never unlock these niggas

Wouldn’t rehabilitate, man, I would just box these niggas

And throw away the key

I’d throw away the key like the coast guard watching me

I’d throw away the keys

I’d throw away the keys, I’d throw away the keys

You better watch these niggas (en garde)

If it was up to me, I would never unlock these niggas

Wouldn’t rehabilitate, man, I would just box these niggas

And throw away the key

I’d throw away the key like the coast guard watching me

I’d throw away the keys

I’d throw away the keys, I’d throw away the keys

You better watch these niggas (en garde)

5th year with the DOC

Do you see what’s the C.O. see?

Robocop opt to his C-O-P

Three hots and a C-O-T

Lived in a small town, his whole life

Never left, soundin' like the hole, right?

Either working at the prison, or it’s no lights

In the system working with the police

In the prison stripping niggas phone rights

Got a malice, on the other side of the bars

Watching niggas get smart, watching niggas get strong

Watching niggas get home, he jail us

But deep down he jealous

With each sweep down, he tell us

With each beat down, he help us

Wrong one gon' knock his ass out though

It’s why he gotta lock all the niggas out for

Warden told the boy he better calm down

Step back from the brink and put the bomb down

But how the whole world in your palm sound?

It’s why they treat niggas like shit

Writing raps to the taps

Keep the face mask on 'em, these niggas might spit

You better watch these niggas (en garde)

If it was up to me, I would never unlock these niggas

Wouldn’t rehabilitate, man, I would just box these niggas

And throw away the key

I’d throw away the key like the coast guard watching me

I’d throw away the keys

I’d throw away the keys, I’d throw away the keys

You better watch these niggas (en garde)

If it was up to me, I would never unlock these niggas

Wouldn’t rehabilitate, man, I would just box these niggas

And throw away the key

I’d throw away the key like the coast guard watching me

I’d throw away the keys

I’d throw away the keys, I’d throw away the keys

You better watch these niggas (en garde)