Lyrics
(Count time!
Everybody by your mother fucking cells!
West block, lockdown
North block, lockdown
Mainline, lockdown
Cougnut!
Whats up porky pig?
Roll your mother fucking shit up it’s your time)
[Verse 1: Cougnut)
It’s my time
Shipped from the mainline
Time to go to the box with the gas flow
Shackled in I’m being fronted by a camera crew
HBO finally made pay-per-view
Fought the case for a year to election
Got fucked with that rigged-ass jury selection
And that wasn’t cool, proposition 115 here’s the evidence rule
Now I’m labeled as a murdered
DA jocking like fuck to be the governor
Not to mention it’s political
Situation critical, the jury didn’t feel me though
They said I murdered this lady
Execution style, in front of a fucking baby
Wash me up for that hot one
They new I didn’t do it cause' ballistics checked the fucking gun
Then they framed me with that nonsense
They knew goddamn well they weren’t my mother fucking finger prints
They just want to label me
Menace to society with psychopathic history
So they framed me for a shooting
The jury said guilty, public execution
(Instead of twenty-five, I got public execution, public execution)
(So Cougnut, can you explain to our audience how it was as a youngster growing
up in and out of correctional facilities?)
Dying in a hell hole
I should have took the deal at first, life with no parole
Instead of taking it to trial, I knew I was when they pulled my god damn file
Since a youngster, been a hanger
Had to stay strapped for any hard head gang banger
Plus I didn’t play
Fourteen and for possession of that HK
Got released when I was sixteen
The game had changed
I’m serving 'caine at the dope fiends
Got same game from my OG
Doing life with no parole, fuck a 62 to 3
Doing time since a minor
Thought at twenty one I should retire but I grew higher
Dug deeper in the system
One hard head mother fucker, got to pay 'cause I wouldn’t listen
Facing this fuck charge
Rotting in a cell when I could have been living large
Now I’m counted out, now that’s one less dark nigga on the block to worry 'bout
To avoid all confusion, order in the court, public execution
(Instead of twenty-five, I got public execution, public execution)
Situation ill
Didn’t take the deal so now I’m chewing on my last meal
Gotta go you don’t feel me though
To make my last video, courtesy of death row
Politicians is a trip, execute a nigga on TV just to catch a grip
Goon squad got the menace cocked
Feds gotta gimick for that ass called trigger lock
Head up high with an evil grin
Seeing parts of the pen that I been but never will again
Heart beating 'cause it’s time
Walking up to, I’m hearing 'dead man on the line'
Getting ready for the flesh smell
The smell of bodies cause I know I’m going straight to hell
I’m on no one to regret it
But this is what you get when you’re too fucking hard headed
Being viewed by an audience
Damn I wish I would of tried to hit that mother fucking fence
Instead of going through this bullshit
Fuck it, I’m here so Mr. Warden get it over with
Some last words of advice, fuck you politicians I’ll see you in the next life