Same Time - Joell Ortiz

Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you

Damn

Knew I shoulda stayed off that fuckin' stupid-ass block

Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you again

Fuck

Oh well

I heard so many stories, guess I’m here now

E’ryday’s a fishbowl, I’m gettin' staredowns

So this is three hots and a cot?

A bunkie I don’t know in some funky cell block?

Guess I’ll stay to myself and if they try me, I’ll pop

Since I was tiny I could box, but I ain’t tryna get shot

And everybody lookin' grimy, I gotta find me a ox

They askin' if I’m homie or I’m cuz, but I’m not

I’m NFL, guess it’s time I find me a slot

Yo, who controllin' these phones?

I gotta dial back home

How you write a letter?

Where you get the paper?

How much is a stamp?

How you mail it out, playa?

Damn, this shit fucked up, really fucked up

I’m super hungry, but this shit for lunch, yuck

And one CO got it in for me, I got tough luck

Think I used to rough his nephew up on that yellow bus

I wonder if my girl livin' right

An OG told me never call in the mornin' or night

He said the afternoon’s safe, that’s when she’ll speak clear

'Cause if a nigga spent the night, he probably still there

I play chess with my homie in the wheelchair

Never once asked him how he got in there

I never beat 'em either, but, shit, I don’t care

Them stories that he sell make me feel like I gotta pull outta here

Every morning I’m out there on the count

Every evening I’m in here thinkin' 'bout

How the judge really gave me that amount

And how old I’ma be when I get out

Why the fuck I’m here?

Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you

You’re in here at the same time

Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you again

But we don’t do the same time

Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you

You’re in here at the same time

Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you again

But we don’t do the same time

I’m in and out this place every couple years

Face tatted with a couple tears

Yellin' at some faggot up on the upper tier

He keep cryin' through the night, like, «Why the fuck I’m here?

Nigga, deal with it, I keep my gun close

And anybody face appeal with it, it’s real, Richard

Commissary never a problem, my locker packed, and

If I ain’t got it, then you got a snack, holla back

I’m finna hit the yard, lift the entire rack

Today, I’m doin' chest and back

Extra pack of sticks on the juggle from a Redskin fumble

How wild is that?

When it come to the playoffs, the Giants— nah

Got a kite and a pic from this Guyanese bitch

I used to fuck with dreads, shit gettin' fucked in my head

New fresh batch of hooch on the way have nigga twisted

Extra toothpaste my next visit, keep my breath hidden

My brother saw my problem in the other house

Some newcomer runnin' his mouth, so he ran in his

And if he wanna take it further, them hammers is out

You know my name and what my handle about, wassup?

Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you

You’re in here at the same time

Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you again

But we don’t do the same time

Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you

You’re in here at the same time

Just when I think I’m gettin' tired of you again

But we don’t do the same time