Felon

It's my job to protect society from a person like this
 there's two kinds of criminals. one we're mad at
 and one we're afraid of
 We gotta do the best we can with the criminals
 that we're mad at
 But the ones we're afraid of, we gotta put them in prison
 Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to
 Mr 92-A-31-31
 From Bay Hill correctional facility
 and I'm a pretty good felon with two counts on
 one hand gun smoking on trees with three ounces
 in my possession, been a bit aggressive
 since my adolescence, expelled from pre-school
 I'm on a mission, 'cos hard heads never learn a lesson
 With two fire arms headed back to corrections
 I'm in a jam, need that one call to fam and I'm
 grinding my teeth as the cell door slams
 Come out in seven now meet the new man
 on the streets with a modified plan
 and I only been home for four weeks
 connected with the block again
 Now i'm knocked again, damn
 I'm a felon, walking these streets
 I can't breathe, in the eyes of the law and the deeds
 I'm a felon, walking these streets
 I can't breathe
 I am a felon
 Up in the cubicle surrounded by criminals
 perpetuate bullshit, remind me of the juveniles
 Boxed in, counted to the 23rd hour
 we're 7 musty niggas in line for the shower
 Feel my frustration?
 I'm in a fucked up situation
 From blowing up trees on probation
 and my record just dropped
 You can hear it on the E block, on regular rotation
 Use imagination
 Turn the clock back, shoulda never moved back
 Shoulda never trust my ex
 She talks on the jack
 Who's in cohoots with Black who stabs me in the back
 for a little .22 and a handful of crack
 On a quest for Rolls Royces you can make the wrong choices
 Second strike, front of judge, don't be voiceless
 sentence you to halfway house, halfway out
 Looking for a job and a nice shirt
 Constantly reminded
 I'm a felon, walking these streets
 I can't breathe, in the eyes of the law and the deeds
 I'm a felon, walking these streets
 I can't breathe
 I am a felon
 I'm a felon
 I'm a felon
 I'm a felon