Write clever script now wish for leather strips for ever trip
Behind bars getting asinine scars from hell mates never flip
Freedom again, blind and misled need fine thread and a feeble
Needle sew past up I know some mass corrupt people
Even with gold or silver braids I shiver afraid in here
Laid in fear in my own bunk as a grown punk can’t clear
My head, need cash handy and dash of brandy but instead
Eat day old bread almost stale want toast I prevail half fed
got roaches on the approaches they eat crumbs I meet some
wanna bite my hot lunch these critters are bitter like rum
even in black cotton my facts rotten as long as this striped
uniform set me apart, type this storm regret my heart hyped
on crime