[Intro]
Yea, dedicated to all my homeboys
In the California Youth Authority
Much Love
[Verse One:]
I caught another case, so the Loc needs bail
But your people act funny, when you're sittin in a cell
I didn't get mail so jail was like hell
Out of anger, I shank 'em in the neck in the stairwell
I remember potacaine was used to rock up
It was a trip on how I got locked up
10 saltine crackers runnin at me with yellow coats
Yellin "Don't move or catch a hot one to the throat"
You learn real fast to put your hands up quick, black
Yo, just put an 'out of order' sign on your bozack
I didn't twitch, scratch or itch
They found a nine in my inside pocket ain't that a b**h
A short and quick trip to the County straight drama
The first call I made was collect to my mama
I didn't go see her before I went to jail
But now I wanted her to come visit
Send money orders and post bail
Till I remembered that I'm grown
So now I gotta handle it myself, fool
The Loc is on his own
[Chorus:]
The Loc is on His Own
Moms was trippin' she got a block on the phone
I can't call home, the Loc is on his own
Moms was trippin' she got a block on the phone
I can't call home, the Loc is on his own
Moms was trippin' she got a block on the phone
[Verse Two:]
Yea Moms I love you too
I understand that your tired of the bullsh** I put you throw
I pleaded not guilty, G
With no intentions of going to trial, I got the plea
Now the cops got another young n***a off the streets
He's coming back to fish for some more meat
Puttin marked money on a hook to real us in
Or sit in this little a** bucket called the Pen
And they'll give you a day when you'll be free
Huh, but it ain't no garantee
Because you might get the shovel
Be the next one to find out is it a god in the devil
But it you can hold your own and mind your own
You live long,
Take no sh** and stay strong
Some fake religon and play with churches
They put pretty boys with hard n***az on purpose
I ain't heard from non of my peoples, homes
But that's ai-ight though
The Bullet Loc is on his own
[Chorus]
Polo T-shirt, now I'm creasing up my 501's
Hoping they gonna give me some sun
No So-Glow
Pimp Daddy Afro
The Loc ain't about to shave
I'm comin like a mob in 9-4
Comb in my left back pocket, it's time
Try to get Parole in this long a** line
My big homie walked out with his head down low
I said yo, big boo, what the f** they shoot you down for
My brotha wants to k** the pig
Gave him a year because his arms are too big
It's f**ed up in jail
If you're holdin a bowl with some change,
Your goin back in your cell
They let me go, I grabbed my heaters
Now I'm down with the n***az in the shell-toe Adidas
And we going to make this money, all of it
Not a little bit
I'm smokin on the Indo until I get illiterate
Leave me alone, trick, I'm in a full zone
My money's on the microphone
The Loc is on his own
[Chorus]
She got a block on the phone