[{"id":28461436,"name":"Jail Shit","trackName":"Jail Shit","artistName":"Sean Price feat. Rock","albumName":"Donkey Sean Jr. (Mixed by P.F. Cuttin)","duration":205.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Sean Price)\nWho this? Sean Price, groovy shit\nCatch a body cop out to a two to six\nLess the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\nThat's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\nWeed and dope, anything you need to smoke\nFor the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\nFive Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\nKnife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\nAin't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\nDig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\nHere are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\nSet it off for the German, do a year in the bing\nEither grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\nYou them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\nYou should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\nBut wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n(Chorus: Rock)\nYou come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\nFightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\nOnly the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\nGet torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n(Sean Price)\nI hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\nTie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\nI'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\nTired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\nWhen I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\nBut when I, come home, you know the God won't change\nI'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\nSoon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\nBang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\nBut corner violation for smoking weed\nAs the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\nWith a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\nMan, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\nCan't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n(Chorus)\n\n(Sean Price)\nMy life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\nNiggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\nLooking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\nRealizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\nIt's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\nDee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\nIf I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\nAll my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n(Chorus 2X)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.71] (Sean Price)\n[00:03.61] Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n[00:17.16] Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n[00:19.86] Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n[00:22.57] That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n[00:25.29] Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n[00:27.99] For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n[00:30.70] Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n[00:33.41] Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n[00:37.03] Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n[00:39.74] Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n[00:40.65] Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n[00:44.26] Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n[00:46.97] Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n[00:49.68] You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n[00:52.38] You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n[00:55.09] But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n[00:58.70] (Chorus: Rock)\n[00:59.61] You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n[01:01.42] Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n[01:04.12] Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n[01:06.84] Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n[01:09.54] (Sean Price)\n[01:10.45] I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n[01:12.25] Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n[01:14.06] I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n[01:16.77] Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n[01:19.48] When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n[01:22.20] But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n[01:25.80] I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n[01:28.51] Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n[01:31.22] Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n[01:33.94] But corner violation for smoking weed\n[01:36.64] As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n[01:38.45] With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n[01:42.06] Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n[01:44.77] Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n[01:47.49] (Chorus)\n[01:53.80] (Sean Price)\n[01:58.32] My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n[02:01.02] Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n[02:03.74] Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n[02:06.44] Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n[02:08.26] It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n[02:11.87] Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n[02:14.57] If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n[02:17.29] All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n[02:19.99] (Chorus 2X)\n[02:49.81] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Jail Shit\n  artist: Sean Price feat. Rock\n  album: Donkey Sean Jr. (Mixed by P.F. Cuttin)\n  duration_ms: 205000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 2710\n  end_ms: 3610\n- text: Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  start_ms: 3610\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 19860\n- text: Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  start_ms: 19860\n  end_ms: 22570\n- text: That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  start_ms: 22570\n  end_ms: 25290\n- text: Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  start_ms: 25290\n  end_ms: 27990\n- text: For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  start_ms: 27990\n  end_ms: 30700\n- text: Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  start_ms: 30700\n  end_ms: 33410\n- text: Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  start_ms: 33410\n  end_ms: 37030\n- text: Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  start_ms: 37030\n  end_ms: 39740\n- text: Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  start_ms: 39740\n  end_ms: 40650\n- text: Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  start_ms: 40650\n  end_ms: 44260\n- text: Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  start_ms: 44260\n  end_ms: 46970\n- text: Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  start_ms: 46970\n  end_ms: 49680\n- text: You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  start_ms: 49680\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55090\n- text: But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n  start_ms: 55090\n  end_ms: 58700\n- text: '(Chorus: Rock)'\n  start_ms: 58700\n  end_ms: 59610\n- text: You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  start_ms: 59610\n  end_ms: 61420\n- text: Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  start_ms: 61420\n  end_ms: 64120\n- text: Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  start_ms: 64120\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 70450\n- text: I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  start_ms: 70450\n  end_ms: 72250\n- text: Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  start_ms: 72250\n  end_ms: 74060\n- text: I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  start_ms: 74060\n  end_ms: 76770\n- text: Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  start_ms: 76770\n  end_ms: 79480\n- text: When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  start_ms: 79480\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 85800\n- text: I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  start_ms: 85800\n  end_ms: 88510\n- text: Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  start_ms: 88510\n  end_ms: 91220\n- text: Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  start_ms: 91220\n  end_ms: 93940\n- text: But corner violation for smoking weed\n  start_ms: 93940\n  end_ms: 96640\n- text: As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  start_ms: 96640\n  end_ms: 98450\n- text: With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  start_ms: 98450\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 104770\n- text: Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n  start_ms: 104770\n  end_ms: 107490\n- text: (Chorus)\n  start_ms: 107490\n  end_ms: 113800\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 113800\n  end_ms: 118320\n- text: My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  start_ms: 118320\n  end_ms: 121020\n- text: Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  start_ms: 121020\n  end_ms: 123740\n- text: Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  start_ms: 123740\n  end_ms: 126440\n- text: Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  start_ms: 126440\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 131870\n- text: Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  start_ms: 131870\n  end_ms: 134570\n- text: If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  start_ms: 134570\n  end_ms: 137290\n- text: All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n  start_ms: 137290\n  end_ms: 139990\n- text: (Chorus 2X)\n  start_ms: 139990\n  end_ms: 169810\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 169810\nplain: |-\n  (Sean Price)\n  Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n  (Chorus: Rock)\n  You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  But corner violation for smoking weed\n  As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n  (Chorus)\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n  (Chorus 2X)\n"},{"id":17350742,"name":"Jail Shit","trackName":"Jail Shit","artistName":"SEAN PRICE","albumName":"Monkey Barz","duration":205.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Sean Price)\nWho this? Sean Price, groovy shit\nCatch a body cop out to a two to six\nLess the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\nThat's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\nWeed and dope, anything you need to smoke\nFor the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\nFive Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\nKnife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\nAin't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\nDig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\nHere are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\nSet it off for the German, do a year in the bing\nEither grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\nYou them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\nYou should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\nBut wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n(Chorus: Rock)\nYou come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\nFightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\nOnly the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\nGet torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n(Sean Price)\nI hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\nTie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\nI'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\nTired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\nWhen I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\nBut when I, come home, you know the God won't change\nI'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\nSoon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\nBang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\nBut corner violation for smoking weed\nAs the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\nWith a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\nMan, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\nCan't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n(Chorus)\n\n(Sean Price)\nMy life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\nNiggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\nLooking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\nRealizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\nIt's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\nDee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\nIf I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\nAll my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n(Chorus 2X)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.71] (Sean Price)\n[00:03.61] Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n[00:17.16] Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n[00:19.86] Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n[00:22.57] That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n[00:25.29] Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n[00:27.99] For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n[00:30.70] Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n[00:33.41] Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n[00:37.03] Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n[00:39.74] Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n[00:40.65] Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n[00:44.26] Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n[00:46.97] Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n[00:49.68] You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n[00:52.38] You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n[00:55.09] But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n[00:58.70] (Chorus: Rock)\n[00:59.61] You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n[01:01.42] Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n[01:04.12] Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n[01:06.84] Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n[01:09.54] (Sean Price)\n[01:10.45] I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n[01:12.25] Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n[01:14.06] I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n[01:16.77] Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n[01:19.48] When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n[01:22.20] But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n[01:25.80] I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n[01:28.51] Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n[01:31.22] Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n[01:33.94] But corner violation for smoking weed\n[01:36.64] As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n[01:38.45] With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n[01:42.06] Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n[01:44.77] Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n[01:47.49] (Chorus)\n[01:53.80] (Sean Price)\n[01:58.32] My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n[02:01.02] Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n[02:03.74] Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n[02:06.44] Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n[02:08.26] It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n[02:11.87] Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n[02:14.57] If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n[02:17.29] All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n[02:19.99] (Chorus 2X)\n[02:49.81] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Jail Shit\n  artist: SEAN PRICE\n  album: Monkey Barz\n  duration_ms: 205000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 2710\n  end_ms: 3610\n- text: Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  start_ms: 3610\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 19860\n- text: Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  start_ms: 19860\n  end_ms: 22570\n- text: That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  start_ms: 22570\n  end_ms: 25290\n- text: Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  start_ms: 25290\n  end_ms: 27990\n- text: For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  start_ms: 27990\n  end_ms: 30700\n- text: Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  start_ms: 30700\n  end_ms: 33410\n- text: Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  start_ms: 33410\n  end_ms: 37030\n- text: Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  start_ms: 37030\n  end_ms: 39740\n- text: Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  start_ms: 39740\n  end_ms: 40650\n- text: Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  start_ms: 40650\n  end_ms: 44260\n- text: Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  start_ms: 44260\n  end_ms: 46970\n- text: Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  start_ms: 46970\n  end_ms: 49680\n- text: You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  start_ms: 49680\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55090\n- text: But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n  start_ms: 55090\n  end_ms: 58700\n- text: '(Chorus: Rock)'\n  start_ms: 58700\n  end_ms: 59610\n- text: You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  start_ms: 59610\n  end_ms: 61420\n- text: Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  start_ms: 61420\n  end_ms: 64120\n- text: Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  start_ms: 64120\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 70450\n- text: I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  start_ms: 70450\n  end_ms: 72250\n- text: Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  start_ms: 72250\n  end_ms: 74060\n- text: I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  start_ms: 74060\n  end_ms: 76770\n- text: Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  start_ms: 76770\n  end_ms: 79480\n- text: When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  start_ms: 79480\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 85800\n- text: I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  start_ms: 85800\n  end_ms: 88510\n- text: Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  start_ms: 88510\n  end_ms: 91220\n- text: Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  start_ms: 91220\n  end_ms: 93940\n- text: But corner violation for smoking weed\n  start_ms: 93940\n  end_ms: 96640\n- text: As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  start_ms: 96640\n  end_ms: 98450\n- text: With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  start_ms: 98450\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 104770\n- text: Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n  start_ms: 104770\n  end_ms: 107490\n- text: (Chorus)\n  start_ms: 107490\n  end_ms: 113800\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 113800\n  end_ms: 118320\n- text: My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  start_ms: 118320\n  end_ms: 121020\n- text: Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  start_ms: 121020\n  end_ms: 123740\n- text: Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  start_ms: 123740\n  end_ms: 126440\n- text: Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  start_ms: 126440\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 131870\n- text: Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  start_ms: 131870\n  end_ms: 134570\n- text: If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  start_ms: 134570\n  end_ms: 137290\n- text: All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n  start_ms: 137290\n  end_ms: 139990\n- text: (Chorus 2X)\n  start_ms: 139990\n  end_ms: 169810\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 169810\nplain: |-\n  (Sean Price)\n  Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n  (Chorus: Rock)\n  You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  But corner violation for smoking weed\n  As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n  (Chorus)\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n  (Chorus 2X)\n"},{"id":17153236,"name":"Jail Shit","trackName":"Jail Shit","artistName":"Sean Price feat. Rock","albumName":"Monkey Barz","duration":205.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Sean Price)\nWho this? Sean Price, groovy shit\nCatch a body cop out to a two to six\nLess the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\nThat's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\nWeed and dope, anything you need to smoke\nFor the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\nFive Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\nKnife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\nAin't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\nDig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\nHere are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\nSet it off for the German, do a year in the bing\nEither grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\nYou them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\nYou should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\nBut wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n(Chorus: Rock)\nYou come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\nFightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\nOnly the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\nGet torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n(Sean Price)\nI hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\nTie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\nI'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\nTired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\nWhen I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\nBut when I, come home, you know the God won't change\nI'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\nSoon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\nBang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\nBut corner violation for smoking weed\nAs the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\nWith a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\nMan, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\nCan't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n(Chorus)\n\n(Sean Price)\nMy life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\nNiggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\nLooking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\nRealizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\nIt's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\nDee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\nIf I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\nAll my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n(Chorus 2X)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.71] (Sean Price)\n[00:03.61] Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n[00:17.16] Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n[00:19.86] Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n[00:22.57] That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n[00:25.29] Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n[00:27.99] For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n[00:30.70] Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n[00:33.41] Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n[00:37.03] Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n[00:39.74] Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n[00:40.65] Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n[00:44.26] Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n[00:46.97] Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n[00:49.68] You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n[00:52.38] You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n[00:55.09] But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n[00:58.70] (Chorus: Rock)\n[00:59.61] You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n[01:01.42] Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n[01:04.12] Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n[01:06.84] Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n[01:09.54] (Sean Price)\n[01:10.45] I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n[01:12.25] Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n[01:14.06] I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n[01:16.77] Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n[01:19.48] When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n[01:22.20] But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n[01:25.80] I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n[01:28.51] Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n[01:31.22] Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n[01:33.94] But corner violation for smoking weed\n[01:36.64] As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n[01:38.45] With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n[01:42.06] Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n[01:44.77] Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n[01:47.49] (Chorus)\n[01:53.80] (Sean Price)\n[01:58.32] My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n[02:01.02] Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n[02:03.74] Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n[02:06.44] Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n[02:08.26] It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n[02:11.87] Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n[02:14.57] If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n[02:17.29] All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n[02:19.99] (Chorus 2X)\n[02:49.81] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Jail Shit\n  artist: Sean Price feat. Rock\n  album: Monkey Barz\n  duration_ms: 205000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 2710\n  end_ms: 3610\n- text: Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  start_ms: 3610\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 19860\n- text: Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  start_ms: 19860\n  end_ms: 22570\n- text: That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  start_ms: 22570\n  end_ms: 25290\n- text: Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  start_ms: 25290\n  end_ms: 27990\n- text: For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  start_ms: 27990\n  end_ms: 30700\n- text: Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  start_ms: 30700\n  end_ms: 33410\n- text: Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  start_ms: 33410\n  end_ms: 37030\n- text: Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  start_ms: 37030\n  end_ms: 39740\n- text: Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  start_ms: 39740\n  end_ms: 40650\n- text: Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  start_ms: 40650\n  end_ms: 44260\n- text: Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  start_ms: 44260\n  end_ms: 46970\n- text: Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  start_ms: 46970\n  end_ms: 49680\n- text: You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  start_ms: 49680\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55090\n- text: But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n  start_ms: 55090\n  end_ms: 58700\n- text: '(Chorus: Rock)'\n  start_ms: 58700\n  end_ms: 59610\n- text: You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  start_ms: 59610\n  end_ms: 61420\n- text: Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  start_ms: 61420\n  end_ms: 64120\n- text: Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  start_ms: 64120\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 70450\n- text: I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  start_ms: 70450\n  end_ms: 72250\n- text: Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  start_ms: 72250\n  end_ms: 74060\n- text: I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  start_ms: 74060\n  end_ms: 76770\n- text: Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  start_ms: 76770\n  end_ms: 79480\n- text: When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  start_ms: 79480\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 85800\n- text: I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  start_ms: 85800\n  end_ms: 88510\n- text: Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  start_ms: 88510\n  end_ms: 91220\n- text: Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  start_ms: 91220\n  end_ms: 93940\n- text: But corner violation for smoking weed\n  start_ms: 93940\n  end_ms: 96640\n- text: As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  start_ms: 96640\n  end_ms: 98450\n- text: With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  start_ms: 98450\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 104770\n- text: Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n  start_ms: 104770\n  end_ms: 107490\n- text: (Chorus)\n  start_ms: 107490\n  end_ms: 113800\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 113800\n  end_ms: 118320\n- text: My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  start_ms: 118320\n  end_ms: 121020\n- text: Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  start_ms: 121020\n  end_ms: 123740\n- text: Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  start_ms: 123740\n  end_ms: 126440\n- text: Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  start_ms: 126440\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 131870\n- text: Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  start_ms: 131870\n  end_ms: 134570\n- text: If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  start_ms: 134570\n  end_ms: 137290\n- text: All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n  start_ms: 137290\n  end_ms: 139990\n- text: (Chorus 2X)\n  start_ms: 139990\n  end_ms: 169810\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 169810\nplain: |-\n  (Sean Price)\n  Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n  (Chorus: Rock)\n  You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  But corner violation for smoking weed\n  As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n  (Chorus)\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n  (Chorus 2X)\n"},{"id":25923239,"name":"Jail Shit","trackName":"Jail Shit","artistName":"Sean Price feat. Rock","albumName":"Monkey Barz","duration":207.012525,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Sean Price)\nWho this? Sean Price, groovy shit\nCatch a body cop out to a two to six\nLess the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\nThat's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\nWeed and dope, anything you need to smoke\nFor the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\nFive Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\nKnife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\nAin't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\nDig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\nHere are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\nSet it off for the German, do a year in the bing\nEither grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\nYou them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\nYou should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\nBut wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n(Chorus: Rock)\nYou come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\nFightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\nOnly the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\nGet torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n(Sean Price)\nI hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\nTie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\nI'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\nTired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\nWhen I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\nBut when I, come home, you know the God won't change\nI'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\nSoon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\nBang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\nBut corner violation for smoking weed\nAs the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\nWith a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\nMan, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\nCan't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n(Chorus)\n\n(Sean Price)\nMy life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\nNiggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\nLooking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\nRealizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\nIt's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\nDee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\nIf I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\nAll my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n(Chorus 2X)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.71] (Sean Price)\n[00:03.61] Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n[00:17.16] Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n[00:19.86] Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n[00:22.57] That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n[00:25.29] Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n[00:27.99] For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n[00:30.70] Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n[00:33.41] Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n[00:37.03] Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n[00:39.74] Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n[00:40.65] Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n[00:44.26] Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n[00:46.97] Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n[00:49.68] You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n[00:52.38] You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n[00:55.09] But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n[00:58.70] (Chorus: Rock)\n[00:59.61] You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n[01:01.42] Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n[01:04.12] Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n[01:06.84] Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n[01:09.54] (Sean Price)\n[01:10.45] I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n[01:12.25] Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n[01:14.06] I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n[01:16.77] Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n[01:19.48] When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n[01:22.20] But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n[01:25.80] I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n[01:28.51] Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n[01:31.22] Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n[01:33.94] But corner violation for smoking weed\n[01:36.64] As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n[01:38.45] With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n[01:42.06] Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n[01:44.77] Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n[01:47.49] (Chorus)\n[01:53.80] (Sean Price)\n[01:58.32] My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n[02:01.02] Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n[02:03.74] Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n[02:06.44] Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n[02:08.26] It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n[02:11.87] Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n[02:14.57] If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n[02:17.29] All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n[02:19.99] (Chorus 2X)\n[02:49.81] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Jail Shit\n  artist: Sean Price feat. Rock\n  album: Monkey Barz\n  duration_ms: 207013\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 2710\n  end_ms: 3610\n- text: Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  start_ms: 3610\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 19860\n- text: Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  start_ms: 19860\n  end_ms: 22570\n- text: That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  start_ms: 22570\n  end_ms: 25290\n- text: Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  start_ms: 25290\n  end_ms: 27990\n- text: For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  start_ms: 27990\n  end_ms: 30700\n- text: Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  start_ms: 30700\n  end_ms: 33410\n- text: Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  start_ms: 33410\n  end_ms: 37030\n- text: Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  start_ms: 37030\n  end_ms: 39740\n- text: Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  start_ms: 39740\n  end_ms: 40650\n- text: Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  start_ms: 40650\n  end_ms: 44260\n- text: Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  start_ms: 44260\n  end_ms: 46970\n- text: Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  start_ms: 46970\n  end_ms: 49680\n- text: You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  start_ms: 49680\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55090\n- text: But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n  start_ms: 55090\n  end_ms: 58700\n- text: '(Chorus: Rock)'\n  start_ms: 58700\n  end_ms: 59610\n- text: You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  start_ms: 59610\n  end_ms: 61420\n- text: Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  start_ms: 61420\n  end_ms: 64120\n- text: Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  start_ms: 64120\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 70450\n- text: I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  start_ms: 70450\n  end_ms: 72250\n- text: Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  start_ms: 72250\n  end_ms: 74060\n- text: I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  start_ms: 74060\n  end_ms: 76770\n- text: Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  start_ms: 76770\n  end_ms: 79480\n- text: When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  start_ms: 79480\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 85800\n- text: I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  start_ms: 85800\n  end_ms: 88510\n- text: Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  start_ms: 88510\n  end_ms: 91220\n- text: Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  start_ms: 91220\n  end_ms: 93940\n- text: But corner violation for smoking weed\n  start_ms: 93940\n  end_ms: 96640\n- text: As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  start_ms: 96640\n  end_ms: 98450\n- text: With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  start_ms: 98450\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 104770\n- text: Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n  start_ms: 104770\n  end_ms: 107490\n- text: (Chorus)\n  start_ms: 107490\n  end_ms: 113800\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 113800\n  end_ms: 118320\n- text: My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  start_ms: 118320\n  end_ms: 121020\n- text: Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  start_ms: 121020\n  end_ms: 123740\n- text: Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  start_ms: 123740\n  end_ms: 126440\n- text: Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  start_ms: 126440\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 131870\n- text: Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  start_ms: 131870\n  end_ms: 134570\n- text: If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  start_ms: 134570\n  end_ms: 137290\n- text: All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n  start_ms: 137290\n  end_ms: 139990\n- text: (Chorus 2X)\n  start_ms: 139990\n  end_ms: 169810\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 169810\nplain: |-\n  (Sean Price)\n  Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n  (Chorus: Rock)\n  You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  But corner violation for smoking weed\n  As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n  (Chorus)\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n  (Chorus 2X)\n"},{"id":17592516,"name":"Jail Shit Ft. Rock","trackName":"Jail Shit Ft. Rock","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Monkey Barz","duration":205.066542,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Sean Price)\nWho this? Sean Price, groovy shit\nCatch a body cop out to a two to six\nLess the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\nThat's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\nWeed and dope, anything you need to smoke\nFor the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\nFive Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\nKnife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\nAin't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\nDig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\nHere are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\nSet it off for the German, do a year in the bing\nEither grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\nYou them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\nYou should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\nBut wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n(Chorus: Rock)\nYou come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\nFightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\nOnly the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\nGet torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n(Sean Price)\nI hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\nTie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\nI'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\nTired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\nWhen I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\nBut when I, come home, you know the God won't change\nI'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\nSoon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\nBang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\nBut corner violation for smoking weed\nAs the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\nWith a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\nMan, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\nCan't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n(Chorus)\n\n(Sean Price)\nMy life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\nNiggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\nLooking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\nRealizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\nIt's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\nDee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\nIf I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\nAll my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n(Chorus 2X)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.71] (Sean Price)\n[00:03.61] Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n[00:17.16] Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n[00:19.86] Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n[00:22.57] That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n[00:25.29] Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n[00:27.99] For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n[00:30.70] Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n[00:33.41] Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n[00:37.03] Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n[00:39.74] Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n[00:40.65] Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n[00:44.26] Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n[00:46.97] Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n[00:49.68] You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n[00:52.38] You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n[00:55.09] But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n[00:58.70] (Chorus: Rock)\n[00:59.61] You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n[01:01.42] Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n[01:04.12] Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n[01:06.84] Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n[01:09.54] (Sean Price)\n[01:10.45] I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n[01:12.25] Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n[01:14.06] I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n[01:16.77] Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n[01:19.48] When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n[01:22.20] But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n[01:25.80] I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n[01:28.51] Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n[01:31.22] Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n[01:33.94] But corner violation for smoking weed\n[01:36.64] As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n[01:38.45] With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n[01:42.06] Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n[01:44.77] Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n[01:47.49] (Chorus)\n[01:53.80] (Sean Price)\n[01:58.32] My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n[02:01.02] Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n[02:03.74] Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n[02:06.44] Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n[02:08.26] It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n[02:11.87] Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n[02:14.57] If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n[02:17.29] All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n[02:19.99] (Chorus 2X)\n[02:49.81] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Jail Shit Ft. Rock\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Monkey Barz\n  duration_ms: 205067\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 2710\n  end_ms: 3610\n- text: Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  start_ms: 3610\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 19860\n- text: Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  start_ms: 19860\n  end_ms: 22570\n- text: That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  start_ms: 22570\n  end_ms: 25290\n- text: Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  start_ms: 25290\n  end_ms: 27990\n- text: For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  start_ms: 27990\n  end_ms: 30700\n- text: Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  start_ms: 30700\n  end_ms: 33410\n- text: Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  start_ms: 33410\n  end_ms: 37030\n- text: Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  start_ms: 37030\n  end_ms: 39740\n- text: Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  start_ms: 39740\n  end_ms: 40650\n- text: Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  start_ms: 40650\n  end_ms: 44260\n- text: Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  start_ms: 44260\n  end_ms: 46970\n- text: Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  start_ms: 46970\n  end_ms: 49680\n- text: You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  start_ms: 49680\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55090\n- text: But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n  start_ms: 55090\n  end_ms: 58700\n- text: '(Chorus: Rock)'\n  start_ms: 58700\n  end_ms: 59610\n- text: You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  start_ms: 59610\n  end_ms: 61420\n- text: Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  start_ms: 61420\n  end_ms: 64120\n- text: Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  start_ms: 64120\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 70450\n- text: I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  start_ms: 70450\n  end_ms: 72250\n- text: Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  start_ms: 72250\n  end_ms: 74060\n- text: I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  start_ms: 74060\n  end_ms: 76770\n- text: Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  start_ms: 76770\n  end_ms: 79480\n- text: When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  start_ms: 79480\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 85800\n- text: I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  start_ms: 85800\n  end_ms: 88510\n- text: Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  start_ms: 88510\n  end_ms: 91220\n- text: Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  start_ms: 91220\n  end_ms: 93940\n- text: But corner violation for smoking weed\n  start_ms: 93940\n  end_ms: 96640\n- text: As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  start_ms: 96640\n  end_ms: 98450\n- text: With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  start_ms: 98450\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 104770\n- text: Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n  start_ms: 104770\n  end_ms: 107490\n- text: (Chorus)\n  start_ms: 107490\n  end_ms: 113800\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 113800\n  end_ms: 118320\n- text: My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  start_ms: 118320\n  end_ms: 121020\n- text: Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  start_ms: 121020\n  end_ms: 123740\n- text: Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  start_ms: 123740\n  end_ms: 126440\n- text: Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  start_ms: 126440\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 131870\n- text: Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  start_ms: 131870\n  end_ms: 134570\n- text: If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  start_ms: 134570\n  end_ms: 137290\n- text: All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n  start_ms: 137290\n  end_ms: 139990\n- text: (Chorus 2X)\n  start_ms: 139990\n  end_ms: 169810\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 169810\nplain: |-\n  (Sean Price)\n  Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n  (Chorus: Rock)\n  You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  But corner violation for smoking weed\n  As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n  (Chorus)\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n  (Chorus 2X)\n"},{"id":17390869,"name":"Jail Shit (Feat. Rock)","trackName":"Jail Shit (Feat. Rock)","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Monkey Barz","duration":204.933333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Sean Price)\nWho this? Sean Price, groovy shit\nCatch a body cop out to a two to six\nLess the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\nThat's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\nWeed and dope, anything you need to smoke\nFor the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\nFive Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\nKnife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\nAin't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\nDig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\nHere are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\nSet it off for the German, do a year in the bing\nEither grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\nYou them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\nYou should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\nBut wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n(Chorus: Rock)\nYou come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\nFightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\nOnly the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\nGet torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n(Sean Price)\nI hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\nTie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\nI'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\nTired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\nWhen I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\nBut when I, come home, you know the God won't change\nI'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\nSoon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\nBang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\nBut corner violation for smoking weed\nAs the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\nWith a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\nMan, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\nCan't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n(Chorus)\n\n(Sean Price)\nMy life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\nNiggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\nLooking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\nRealizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\nIt's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\nDee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\nIf I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\nAll my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n(Chorus 2X)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.71] (Sean Price)\n[00:03.61] Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n[00:17.16] Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n[00:19.86] Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n[00:22.57] That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n[00:25.29] Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n[00:27.99] For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n[00:30.70] Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n[00:33.41] Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n[00:37.03] Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n[00:39.74] Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n[00:40.65] Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n[00:44.26] Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n[00:46.97] Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n[00:49.68] You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n[00:52.38] You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n[00:55.09] But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n[00:58.70] (Chorus: Rock)\n[00:59.61] You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n[01:01.42] Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n[01:04.12] Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n[01:06.84] Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n[01:09.54] (Sean Price)\n[01:10.45] I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n[01:12.25] Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n[01:14.06] I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n[01:16.77] Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n[01:19.48] When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n[01:22.20] But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n[01:25.80] I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n[01:28.51] Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n[01:31.22] Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n[01:33.94] But corner violation for smoking weed\n[01:36.64] As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n[01:38.45] With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n[01:42.06] Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n[01:44.77] Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n[01:47.49] (Chorus)\n[01:53.80] (Sean Price)\n[01:58.32] My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n[02:01.02] Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n[02:03.74] Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n[02:06.44] Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n[02:08.26] It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n[02:11.87] Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n[02:14.57] If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n[02:17.29] All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n[02:19.99] (Chorus 2X)\n[02:49.81] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Jail Shit (Feat. Rock)\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Monkey Barz\n  duration_ms: 204933\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 2710\n  end_ms: 3610\n- text: Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  start_ms: 3610\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 19860\n- text: Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  start_ms: 19860\n  end_ms: 22570\n- text: That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  start_ms: 22570\n  end_ms: 25290\n- text: Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  start_ms: 25290\n  end_ms: 27990\n- text: For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  start_ms: 27990\n  end_ms: 30700\n- text: Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  start_ms: 30700\n  end_ms: 33410\n- text: Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  start_ms: 33410\n  end_ms: 37030\n- text: Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  start_ms: 37030\n  end_ms: 39740\n- text: Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  start_ms: 39740\n  end_ms: 40650\n- text: Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  start_ms: 40650\n  end_ms: 44260\n- text: Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  start_ms: 44260\n  end_ms: 46970\n- text: Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  start_ms: 46970\n  end_ms: 49680\n- text: You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  start_ms: 49680\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55090\n- text: But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n  start_ms: 55090\n  end_ms: 58700\n- text: '(Chorus: Rock)'\n  start_ms: 58700\n  end_ms: 59610\n- text: You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  start_ms: 59610\n  end_ms: 61420\n- text: Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  start_ms: 61420\n  end_ms: 64120\n- text: Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  start_ms: 64120\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 70450\n- text: I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  start_ms: 70450\n  end_ms: 72250\n- text: Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  start_ms: 72250\n  end_ms: 74060\n- text: I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  start_ms: 74060\n  end_ms: 76770\n- text: Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  start_ms: 76770\n  end_ms: 79480\n- text: When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  start_ms: 79480\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 85800\n- text: I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  start_ms: 85800\n  end_ms: 88510\n- text: Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  start_ms: 88510\n  end_ms: 91220\n- text: Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  start_ms: 91220\n  end_ms: 93940\n- text: But corner violation for smoking weed\n  start_ms: 93940\n  end_ms: 96640\n- text: As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  start_ms: 96640\n  end_ms: 98450\n- text: With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  start_ms: 98450\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 104770\n- text: Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n  start_ms: 104770\n  end_ms: 107490\n- text: (Chorus)\n  start_ms: 107490\n  end_ms: 113800\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 113800\n  end_ms: 118320\n- text: My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  start_ms: 118320\n  end_ms: 121020\n- text: Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  start_ms: 121020\n  end_ms: 123740\n- text: Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  start_ms: 123740\n  end_ms: 126440\n- text: Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  start_ms: 126440\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 131870\n- text: Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  start_ms: 131870\n  end_ms: 134570\n- text: If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  start_ms: 134570\n  end_ms: 137290\n- text: All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n  start_ms: 137290\n  end_ms: 139990\n- text: (Chorus 2X)\n  start_ms: 139990\n  end_ms: 169810\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 169810\nplain: |-\n  (Sean Price)\n  Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n  (Chorus: Rock)\n  You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  But corner violation for smoking weed\n  As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n  (Chorus)\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n  (Chorus 2X)\n"},{"id":18495833,"name":"Jail Shit (feat. Rock)","trackName":"Jail Shit (feat. Rock)","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Monkey Barz","duration":207.01215,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Sean Price)\nWho this? Sean Price, groovy shit\nCatch a body cop out to a two to six\nLess the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\nThat's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\nWeed and dope, anything you need to smoke\nFor the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\nFive Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\nKnife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\nAin't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\nDig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\nHere are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\nSet it off for the German, do a year in the bing\nEither grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\nYou them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\nYou should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\nBut wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n(Chorus: Rock)\nYou come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\nFightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\nOnly the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\nGet torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n(Sean Price)\nI hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\nTie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\nI'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\nTired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\nWhen I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\nBut when I, come home, you know the God won't change\nI'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\nSoon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\nBang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\nBut corner violation for smoking weed\nAs the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\nWith a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\nMan, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\nCan't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n(Chorus)\n\n(Sean Price)\nMy life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\nNiggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\nLooking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\nRealizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\nIt's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\nDee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\nIf I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\nAll my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n(Chorus 2X)","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.47] (Sean Price)\n[00:15.97] Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n[00:18.05] Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n[00:20.66] Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n[00:23.36] That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n[00:26.15] Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n[00:28.96] For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n[00:31.62] Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n[00:34.39] Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n[00:37.03] Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n[00:39.76] Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n[00:42.44] Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n[00:45.28] Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n[00:47.93] Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n[00:50.62] You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n[00:53.34] You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n[00:56.00] But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n[00:58.78] (Chorus: Rock)\n[00:59.37] You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n[01:01.52] Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n[01:04.34] Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n[01:06.93] Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n[01:09.31] (Sean Price)\n[01:09.69] I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n[01:12.31] Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n[01:15.13] I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n[01:17.77] Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n[01:20.46] When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n[01:23.12] But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n[01:26.12] I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n[01:28.78] Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n[01:31.49] Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n[01:34.20] But corner violation for smoking weed\n[01:36.93] As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n[01:39.66] With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n[01:42.56] Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n[01:45.39] Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n[01:47.92] (Chorus)\n[01:58.98] (Sean Price)\n[01:59.28] My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n[02:01.56] Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n[02:04.53] Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n[02:07.03] Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n[02:09.64] It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n[02:12.47] Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n[02:15.15] If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n[02:17.89] All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n[02:20.79] (Chorus 2X)\n[03:24.73] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Jail Shit (feat. Rock)\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Monkey Barz\n  duration_ms: 207012\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 1470\n  end_ms: 15970\n- text: Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  start_ms: 15970\n  end_ms: 18050\n- text: Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  start_ms: 18050\n  end_ms: 20660\n- text: Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  start_ms: 20660\n  end_ms: 23360\n- text: That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  start_ms: 23360\n  end_ms: 26150\n- text: Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  start_ms: 26150\n  end_ms: 28960\n- text: For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  start_ms: 28960\n  end_ms: 31620\n- text: Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  start_ms: 31620\n  end_ms: 34390\n- text: Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  start_ms: 34390\n  end_ms: 37030\n- text: Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  start_ms: 37030\n  end_ms: 39760\n- text: Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  start_ms: 39760\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 47930\n- text: Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  start_ms: 47930\n  end_ms: 50620\n- text: You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  start_ms: 50620\n  end_ms: 53340\n- text: You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  start_ms: 53340\n  end_ms: 56000\n- text: But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n  start_ms: 56000\n  end_ms: 58780\n- text: '(Chorus: Rock)'\n  start_ms: 58780\n  end_ms: 59370\n- text: You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  start_ms: 59370\n  end_ms: 61520\n- text: Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  start_ms: 61520\n  end_ms: 64340\n- text: Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  start_ms: 64340\n  end_ms: 66930\n- text: Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n  start_ms: 66930\n  end_ms: 69310\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 69310\n  end_ms: 69690\n- text: I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  start_ms: 69690\n  end_ms: 72310\n- text: Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  start_ms: 72310\n  end_ms: 75130\n- text: I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  start_ms: 75130\n  end_ms: 77770\n- text: Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  start_ms: 77770\n  end_ms: 80460\n- text: When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  start_ms: 80460\n  end_ms: 83120\n- text: But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  start_ms: 83120\n  end_ms: 86120\n- text: I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  start_ms: 86120\n  end_ms: 88780\n- text: Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  start_ms: 88780\n  end_ms: 91490\n- text: Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  start_ms: 91490\n  end_ms: 94200\n- text: But corner violation for smoking weed\n  start_ms: 94200\n  end_ms: 96930\n- text: As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  start_ms: 96930\n  end_ms: 99660\n- text: With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  start_ms: 99660\n  end_ms: 102560\n- text: Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  start_ms: 102560\n  end_ms: 105390\n- text: Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n  start_ms: 105390\n  end_ms: 107920\n- text: (Chorus)\n  start_ms: 107920\n  end_ms: 118980\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 118980\n  end_ms: 119280\n- text: My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  start_ms: 119280\n  end_ms: 121560\n- text: Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  start_ms: 121560\n  end_ms: 124530\n- text: Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  start_ms: 124530\n  end_ms: 127030\n- text: Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  start_ms: 127030\n  end_ms: 129640\n- text: It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  start_ms: 129640\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 135150\n- text: If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  start_ms: 135150\n  end_ms: 137890\n- text: All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n  start_ms: 137890\n  end_ms: 140790\n- text: (Chorus 2X)\n  start_ms: 140790\n  end_ms: 204730\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 204730\nplain: |-\n  (Sean Price)\n  Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n  (Chorus: Rock)\n  You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  But corner violation for smoking weed\n  As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n  (Chorus)\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n  (Chorus 2X)\n"},{"id":22477003,"name":"Jail Shit (Feat. Rock)","trackName":"Jail Shit (Feat. Rock)","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Gorilla","duration":204.933333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Sean Price)\nWho this? Sean Price, groovy shit\nCatch a body cop out to a two to six\nLess the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\nThat's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\nWeed and dope, anything you need to smoke\nFor the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\nFive Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\nKnife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\nAin't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\nDig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\nHere are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\nSet it off for the German, do a year in the bing\nEither grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\nYou them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\nYou should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\nBut wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n(Chorus: Rock)\nYou come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\nFightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\nOnly the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\nGet torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n(Sean Price)\nI hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\nTie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\nI'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\nTired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\nWhen I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\nBut when I, come home, you know the God won't change\nI'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\nSoon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\nBang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\nBut corner violation for smoking weed\nAs the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\nWith a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\nMan, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\nCan't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n(Chorus)\n\n(Sean Price)\nMy life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\nNiggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\nLooking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\nRealizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\nIt's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\nDee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\nIf I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\nAll my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n(Chorus 2X)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.71] (Sean Price)\n[00:03.61] Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n[00:17.16] Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n[00:19.86] Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n[00:22.57] That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n[00:25.29] Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n[00:27.99] For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n[00:30.70] Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n[00:33.41] Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n[00:37.03] Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n[00:39.74] Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n[00:40.65] Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n[00:44.26] Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n[00:46.97] Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n[00:49.68] You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n[00:52.38] You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n[00:55.09] But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n[00:58.70] (Chorus: Rock)\n[00:59.61] You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n[01:01.42] Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n[01:04.12] Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n[01:06.84] Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n[01:09.54] (Sean Price)\n[01:10.45] I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n[01:12.25] Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n[01:14.06] I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n[01:16.77] Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n[01:19.48] When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n[01:22.20] But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n[01:25.80] I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n[01:28.51] Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n[01:31.22] Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n[01:33.94] But corner violation for smoking weed\n[01:36.64] As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n[01:38.45] With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n[01:42.06] Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n[01:44.77] Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n[01:47.49] (Chorus)\n[01:53.80] (Sean Price)\n[01:58.32] My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n[02:01.02] Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n[02:03.74] Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n[02:06.44] Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n[02:08.26] It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n[02:11.87] Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n[02:14.57] If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n[02:17.29] All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n[02:19.99] (Chorus 2X)\n[02:49.81] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Jail Shit (Feat. Rock)\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Gorilla\n  duration_ms: 204933\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 2710\n  end_ms: 3610\n- text: Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  start_ms: 3610\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 19860\n- text: Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  start_ms: 19860\n  end_ms: 22570\n- text: That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  start_ms: 22570\n  end_ms: 25290\n- text: Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  start_ms: 25290\n  end_ms: 27990\n- text: For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  start_ms: 27990\n  end_ms: 30700\n- text: Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  start_ms: 30700\n  end_ms: 33410\n- text: Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  start_ms: 33410\n  end_ms: 37030\n- text: Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  start_ms: 37030\n  end_ms: 39740\n- text: Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  start_ms: 39740\n  end_ms: 40650\n- text: Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  start_ms: 40650\n  end_ms: 44260\n- text: Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  start_ms: 44260\n  end_ms: 46970\n- text: Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  start_ms: 46970\n  end_ms: 49680\n- text: You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  start_ms: 49680\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55090\n- text: But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n  start_ms: 55090\n  end_ms: 58700\n- text: '(Chorus: Rock)'\n  start_ms: 58700\n  end_ms: 59610\n- text: You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  start_ms: 59610\n  end_ms: 61420\n- text: Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  start_ms: 61420\n  end_ms: 64120\n- text: Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  start_ms: 64120\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 70450\n- text: I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  start_ms: 70450\n  end_ms: 72250\n- text: Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  start_ms: 72250\n  end_ms: 74060\n- text: I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  start_ms: 74060\n  end_ms: 76770\n- text: Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  start_ms: 76770\n  end_ms: 79480\n- text: When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  start_ms: 79480\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 85800\n- text: I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  start_ms: 85800\n  end_ms: 88510\n- text: Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  start_ms: 88510\n  end_ms: 91220\n- text: Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  start_ms: 91220\n  end_ms: 93940\n- text: But corner violation for smoking weed\n  start_ms: 93940\n  end_ms: 96640\n- text: As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  start_ms: 96640\n  end_ms: 98450\n- text: With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  start_ms: 98450\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 104770\n- text: Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n  start_ms: 104770\n  end_ms: 107490\n- text: (Chorus)\n  start_ms: 107490\n  end_ms: 113800\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 113800\n  end_ms: 118320\n- text: My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  start_ms: 118320\n  end_ms: 121020\n- text: Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  start_ms: 121020\n  end_ms: 123740\n- text: Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  start_ms: 123740\n  end_ms: 126440\n- text: Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  start_ms: 126440\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 131870\n- text: Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  start_ms: 131870\n  end_ms: 134570\n- text: If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  start_ms: 134570\n  end_ms: 137290\n- text: All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n  start_ms: 137290\n  end_ms: 139990\n- text: (Chorus 2X)\n  start_ms: 139990\n  end_ms: 169810\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 169810\nplain: |-\n  (Sean Price)\n  Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n  (Chorus: Rock)\n  You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  But corner violation for smoking weed\n  As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n  (Chorus)\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n  (Chorus 2X)\n"},{"id":33560753,"name":"Jail Shit feat. Rock","trackName":"Jail Shit feat. Rock","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Monkey Bars","duration":205.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Sean Price)\nWho this? Sean Price, groovy shit\nCatch a body cop out to a two to six\nLess the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\nThat's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\nWeed and dope, anything you need to smoke\nFor the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\nFive Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\nKnife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\nAin't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\nDig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\nHere are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\nSet it off for the German, do a year in the bing\nEither grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\nYou them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\nYou should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\nBut wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n(Chorus: Rock)\nYou come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\nFightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\nOnly the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\nGet torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n(Sean Price)\nI hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\nTie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\nI'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\nTired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\nWhen I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\nBut when I, come home, you know the God won't change\nI'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\nSoon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\nBang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\nBut corner violation for smoking weed\nAs the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\nWith a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\nMan, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\nCan't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n(Chorus)\n\n(Sean Price)\nMy life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\nNiggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\nLooking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\nRealizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\nIt's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\nDee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\nIf I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\nAll my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n(Chorus 2X)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.71] (Sean Price)\n[00:03.61] Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n[00:17.16] Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n[00:19.86] Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n[00:22.57] That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n[00:25.29] Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n[00:27.99] For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n[00:30.70] Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n[00:33.41] Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n[00:37.03] Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n[00:39.74] Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n[00:40.65] Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n[00:44.26] Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n[00:46.97] Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n[00:49.68] You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n[00:52.38] You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n[00:55.09] But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n[00:58.70] (Chorus: Rock)\n[00:59.61] You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n[01:01.42] Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n[01:04.12] Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n[01:06.84] Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n[01:09.54] (Sean Price)\n[01:10.45] I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n[01:12.25] Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n[01:14.06] I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n[01:16.77] Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n[01:19.48] When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n[01:22.20] But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n[01:25.80] I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n[01:28.51] Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n[01:31.22] Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n[01:33.94] But corner violation for smoking weed\n[01:36.64] As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n[01:38.45] With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n[01:42.06] Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n[01:44.77] Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n[01:47.49] (Chorus)\n[01:53.80] (Sean Price)\n[01:58.32] My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n[02:01.02] Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n[02:03.74] Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n[02:06.44] Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n[02:08.26] It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n[02:11.87] Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n[02:14.57] If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n[02:17.29] All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n[02:19.99] (Chorus 2X)\n[02:49.81] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Jail Shit feat. Rock\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Monkey Bars\n  duration_ms: 205000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 2710\n  end_ms: 3610\n- text: Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  start_ms: 3610\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 19860\n- text: Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  start_ms: 19860\n  end_ms: 22570\n- text: That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  start_ms: 22570\n  end_ms: 25290\n- text: Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  start_ms: 25290\n  end_ms: 27990\n- text: For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  start_ms: 27990\n  end_ms: 30700\n- text: Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  start_ms: 30700\n  end_ms: 33410\n- text: Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  start_ms: 33410\n  end_ms: 37030\n- text: Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  start_ms: 37030\n  end_ms: 39740\n- text: Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  start_ms: 39740\n  end_ms: 40650\n- text: Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  start_ms: 40650\n  end_ms: 44260\n- text: Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  start_ms: 44260\n  end_ms: 46970\n- text: Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  start_ms: 46970\n  end_ms: 49680\n- text: You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  start_ms: 49680\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55090\n- text: But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n  start_ms: 55090\n  end_ms: 58700\n- text: '(Chorus: Rock)'\n  start_ms: 58700\n  end_ms: 59610\n- text: You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  start_ms: 59610\n  end_ms: 61420\n- text: Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  start_ms: 61420\n  end_ms: 64120\n- text: Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  start_ms: 64120\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 70450\n- text: I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  start_ms: 70450\n  end_ms: 72250\n- text: Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  start_ms: 72250\n  end_ms: 74060\n- text: I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  start_ms: 74060\n  end_ms: 76770\n- text: Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  start_ms: 76770\n  end_ms: 79480\n- text: When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  start_ms: 79480\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 85800\n- text: I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  start_ms: 85800\n  end_ms: 88510\n- text: Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  start_ms: 88510\n  end_ms: 91220\n- text: Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  start_ms: 91220\n  end_ms: 93940\n- text: But corner violation for smoking weed\n  start_ms: 93940\n  end_ms: 96640\n- text: As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  start_ms: 96640\n  end_ms: 98450\n- text: With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  start_ms: 98450\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 104770\n- text: Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n  start_ms: 104770\n  end_ms: 107490\n- text: (Chorus)\n  start_ms: 107490\n  end_ms: 113800\n- text: (Sean Price)\n  start_ms: 113800\n  end_ms: 118320\n- text: My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  start_ms: 118320\n  end_ms: 121020\n- text: Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  start_ms: 121020\n  end_ms: 123740\n- text: Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  start_ms: 123740\n  end_ms: 126440\n- text: Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  start_ms: 126440\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 131870\n- text: Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  start_ms: 131870\n  end_ms: 134570\n- text: If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  start_ms: 134570\n  end_ms: 137290\n- text: All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n  start_ms: 137290\n  end_ms: 139990\n- text: (Chorus 2X)\n  start_ms: 139990\n  end_ms: 169810\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 169810\nplain: |-\n  (Sean Price)\n  Who this? Sean Price, groovy shit\n  Catch a body cop out to a two to six\n  Less the charge, yo, don't even stress the sarge\n  That's my girl pops, why you think she bless the God?\n  Weed and dope, anything you need to smoke\n  For the kids, netas, triple b's and lokes\n  Five Percent niggaz, aiyo, peace God\n  Knife in ya hand, trynna get a damn piece, god\n  Ain't nothin' left to do, but pull out ya piece, god\n  Dig in they face, until you tear it to piece, god\n  Here are some things, over wrong, fearing no things\n  Set it off for the German, do a year in the bing\n  Either grow dredlocks, did a bid in the bing\n  You them blow head bop, turned queer in the bing\n  You should hang it up, pa, can't take this stuff\n  But wait, pops died, go to wake in cuffs\n\n  (Chorus: Rock)\n  You come home to the streets, niggaz raising hell\n  Fightin', cuttin', damn it's the same as jail\n  Only the grimey get over, ain't no making bail\n  Get torn at the frame, if ya frame is frail\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  I hope and pray my first born, be next to parole\n  Tie it up, liftin' weights, playin' chess with stones\n  I'm tired of things, tired of the riots and gangs\n  Tired of the jack mac, caliberas and ten\n  When I come home, ma, I sware to God, I'ma change\n  But when I, come home, you know the God won't change\n  I'm bluffin' for real, girl you know the fuck is the deal\n  Soon as I touchdown, I need to puff on the real\n  Bang my first floor, pa, never focused, free\n  But corner violation for smoking weed\n  As the cop escort me, as I toot to a cell\n  With a smile, but inside I'm feeling stupid as hell\n  Man, I'm 29 going on 30, kid\n  Can't be getting locked up for no dirty dick\n\n  (Chorus)\n\n  (Sean Price)\n  My life is in danger, my son set it off on the emon\n  Niggaz being easy, how the fuck, can you be calm\n  Looking bad, son, them niggaz deep as hell\n  Realizing all my motherfuckin' peeps is frail\n  It's just me, Killa, Rum Dick, Psyche and Will\n  Dee and a crackhead named Mike from the ville\n  If I die, yo I'm going out with knives in they grill\n  All my motherfuckin' life I've been real, yo\n\n  (Chorus 2X)\n"}]