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Artist: Dungeon Masta
Album:  Project Oblivion (Da Vintage)
Song:   Fuck Parole Pt. 1
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Intro: Dungeon Masta]
Yeah, what, ya'll muthafuckas don't fucked up
Knawimean? I'm out of jail, now, I ain't going back
Give it back to me in a blunt, nahimean? Fuck that, what, what, fuck parole

[Chorus 2X: Dungeon Masta]
I'mma follow ya ass to ya crib (fuck parole)
And show all my niggas where you live (fuck parole)
Should I let you live, should I let you die, (yo)
(Should I let you live, should I let you die (fuck parole))

[Dungeon Masta]
You know I don't fucking like you, and I try to be nice
Even gave you little compliments, just to break the ice
You want to throw the cuffs on me, try to take me away from living up
In the laps of luxury, throw away that thug in me
Fuck the curse, and await the program, got me going to
I'mma give birth to ya baby, fuck that little shit too
You wanna call me the antogizer, got ya ass under pressure
Wanna go and get ya supervisor, stupid ass 85'er
I'm looking at your calender, I'm about to make two
My career's about to blow, but you wanted to be through
If it wasn't for this music shit, I'd be on some
Drug-dealing, stick-a-nigga-up shit, on the run, wanting to bust my gun, shit
Fuck a nine to five, this is '99
I'm about to make a lethal killing, you about to die

[Chorus 2X]

[Dungeon Masta]
So what, so what you took my piss, I told it was dirty
Half these niggas told you that Dungeon was 7:30
Up in the morning, just so I can see you early
I have you walking through these gates which is known as pearly
How dare you, want me to respect, you ain't worthy
You see me every week, bitch, fuck around make a nigga
Want to dig a ditch, bitch, I only want to be rich
No trouble, you lucky and suppose he came and take my double
You want to violate me, it'll be ya daughter I'mma slaughter
And if you have a son, I guarantee he won't make one

[Chorus 2X]

[Dungeon Masta]
What's this? Silver bracelets on my wrist
You mad cuz I gave you a dirty piss, I told you this
In the second verse, you treating me like I'm a curse to society
I see the way your supervisor's eyeing me
You know by locking me down, doesn't scare me
Buck you down, when they bury me
On the contrary, you praying that I won't spit at you
You wanna check my pockets for razors, I carry toast when I come home
You be the first pig I roast, my parolees, do you feel me?
Ain't got no love for them birds, I'm the type of nigga
That wait for you at your job and blow up your car up at the curb
When you leaving my building, beware of the nigga in camouflage
Any number that you like to owe, be the head nigga in charge

[Chorus to fade]