[Kendrick Lamar]
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I was sitting on the couch, reading yellow paper
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A letter in reply, seven days later
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after I wrote him "stay strong, keep your faith in God"
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what I told him, hoping that he's listening
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Said that they tried to give him like a hundred years
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What a coincidence, I was bumping some Plies
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I can taste the salt from my tears
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as the water had start to flood on my eyes
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I know it gotta be hard being twenty-one
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Doing time in the pen and your gramp's old
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Your brother's getting older, and the streets is getting colder
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and you're hoping that he's focussed to stay on the right road
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Sleeping in a cell, it's been thirty weeks
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Ain't received any mail, it's cold and the hole stinks
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And you can't even blink without niggas testing your life
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As I read every word that you write, I can only imagine
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Jason Keaton, I can only imagine, yeah
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[Chorus: Javonte]
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Life's about decisions man
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It's in your hand and you got it
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Just take control if you can
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It's in your hand and you got it
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[Kendrick Lamar]
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Sitting on the couch, that was my Uncle Bobby
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after he just got out, fifteen years to count
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Haven't seen the world in so long, haven't seen a girl in so long
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and before the sun came up, he was gone
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like a fiend off the best rock
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Trying to get his life together, or whatnot
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Typed his name in the system and they couldn't find his identity
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Got it straight, got a place, found some serenity
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Found a job, found his mother gravesite, found a forty ounce
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Then he found God, then he bounced
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Then he found a new chick, two kids, wide hips
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Found something in her we didn't see
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Found this spot in Pasadena and shacked with her, an investment
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Then found guilty, somebody had yelled domestic
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Violence on my Uncle, was working with two strikes
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Only out a year, now facing life, I can only imagine
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That's fucked up, I can only imagine, Uncle Bob
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[Chorus]
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[Kendrick Lamar]
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Sitting on the couch, thinking bout the ratio
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of blacks in prison, it's compact in prison
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when blacks packed with minorities, system grab more of these
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eighteen-year-olds, eighteen-year sentence
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with no parole, the state won't oversee
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They make the term severe, a conspiracy
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That's what I call it, it's full of shit, a toilet can help quick
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The government help? No, just put us on death row
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Just give us some more guns, then give us some more coke
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Then give us another chair, then give us some more rope
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Then hang it like right there, yeah, it's justice for all
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But ninety-percent unfair, care? Nah
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Alcatraz was purchased by a white man for five grand
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with intentions to expand, more prisons
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So these correctionals ain't for rehabilitation
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They for grossing a bigger business, imagine
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We being used, imagine, the truth shall be told
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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Uncle Bobby & Jason Keaton
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Kendrick Lamar |