Lockdown

That's it

Shackles on my wrists and ankles, on that blue bus, it feel like Africa, they shipping

Change you

And they driving like it ain't no passenger, just we getting tangled

Trying to catch my fall, they turning, mashing up, this shit is crazy

At night, them CO's laughing, all you hear is jangles

Trying to turn your mind into a tool, you start comparing angles

Too much on my conscience, make voodoo, the atmosphere drain you

Demons trying to knock me off, cool shoe and interfere with angels

Yeah, I'm a year in, them bitches got they hair in