Kendrick Lamar - Uncle Bobby & Jason Keaton lyrics

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Kendrick Lamar - Uncle Bobby & Jason Keaton lyrics

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