Fes Taylor The Chase Pt. 3
[Fes Taylor:]
Red ID, population, banned for six months
Wound still stitched up, going to get lunch
How to get free, spread a little love in the joint
After rec, slide off, while the God's off point
Hotter than a court bust, sirens going off
Inmate missing, my conscience said 'give it up', man, listen
Caught me running man, life in jail, hard to understand
Feeling like a slave snatched from the motherland
But anyway, make a run for it, get across the water
I'm good, heard dogs barking, running through the woods
Helicopters over me, pictures flashing on the news
Saying that I'm young, black, with an attitude
Shoot to kill, escaped and considered real dangerous
Tried to get away, twice before, back on the same shit
Ran into a fast food joint, yoked this dude up
Took his new coogie suit, and matching blue chucks
Now I need a V, sho' nuff, what did I see?
A 2003 Bentley, on twenty-three's
Caught 'em at the light, nigga, I'm from Car Jack City
Get shot in front of your girl, it won't be pretty
Before I peel off, snatch shorty for security
Now I got a hostage, ain't trying to be boxed in
Pedal to the metal, tires burning the street up
Bullshit, police cars, trying to keep up
Guilty til proven innocent, cause I'm black
f..ck that, I know one thing, I ain't going back
Catch me if you can... arrest me if you can
I ain't never seeing the pens, again
