Atunci când este frig afara este mai fierbinte decât dracu 'în aceste ziduri.
Temperatura de nebuni ridica de pe diagrame.
Furie și frustrare tracțiune pe zi cu zi nostru ca dimineața jumatatea lunii iulie.
Abur văzut de-a lungul coridoarelor, în câteva minute, inimile reci și conflict capete calde, lasand de multe înghețat din cauza șocului de închisoare a făcut omoruri coadă.
Kingpins, lorzii drogurilor și gangsterii toate îmbrăcat în maro. Singura diferență- forța în care o împinge care oțel.
Fără arme de pe acest salbatic-side, but everyday somebody gets gunned down. Lives lost. Nothing gained. Twisted mentals justify the wrong under the laws of survival.
Sweat rains from the walls, mixed with decade old blood.

Moarte! Oh, how I hate this place and what one must be willing to become in order to survive.
Ten toes, compromising for no one, came in with 5, now he’s never going home.
A quick glance that lasted a second too long. Overnight, his pride ate away at the wrong parts of his “auto”.
No one around to steer him away, so instead of dismissing the misunderstanding, lil one grab his knife, tucked it carefully; only mission- getting the misunderstanding, understood.
First move. General work call. The hallways were crowded, inmates moving about. Lil one crept through the crowds eyes open for one man.
spotted !
What came next…………

The moral to this story is pride is the death of most men whether it’s to the streets, the system or another human being. Don’t let pride be the death of you. I know you maybe wondering what happened to lil one. Bine, lets just say that lil one lost his life. Come to find out, the other who lost his life was never even looking in lil one’s direction..